Stars Are Made Of...

Dear Benjamin:

Being a parent can be a very exhausting thing...So much so that when I hear my "alarm," which is you singing the "ABC" song or "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star," I sometimes open one eye and wonder how many candy bars I could use to bribe you into sleeping just five more minutes. I have been your mother for almost three years now, and I still haven't found your snooze button!!!

This morning was one of those "snooze-button" mornings. I opened one eye to the tune of the remixed edition of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star," and proceeded to unfold myself from warm, blanketed bliss and go to your room.

When I walked in you were, as usual, standing in your bed, the characteristic "Ben grin" spread across your face. I noticed that you were pulling at the back of your diaper, and the following dialogue took place:

Mommy: "Good morning, Ben! Did you make poopy?"



Ben: (With a serious look) "No Mommy, it's just gas."



So it's true, stars really are made of gas!!! =0)



Love and What-Will-You-Come-Up-With-Next,

Mommy