Eiffel

Eiffel

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Houston, we have a problem

Like most parents, we pride ourselves on having a baby that is the most adorably perfect little specimen that you can find. Of course our Charlie is the best little tyke around. Now I know most parents say this and it's not true but in our case, it's true. No, really, it is.

Everyone knows it. Everyone agrees with us. Again, really, it's true. No lie. I can't make this stuff up. Charlie is so adored that even our friends and family love to spoil the little guy. We're not complaining and I know he's not. Bones in every corner, clothes everywhere, dozens of laps to choose from - the boy has it made.

Which brings me to the problem. Our little angel always follows us around everywhere. No, this isn't the problem. I'm getting there, just wait. He's my little shadow. Can't get enough of me. I secretly enjoy that he sits on my lap a little bit more than he sits on Mike's. I can't help it. We actually fight over who gets to hold him or who gets to snuggle him when we're sleeping.

I'm serious. I'm not ashamed to admit it. We have a routine. Every night as we get ready for bed, Charlie jumps into bed, nestles beneath the covers and waits for us to climb in. Once we're all in, it's bedtime. Simple enough. This is how it is. Every night. Always. At least that's how it's supposed to be. Until the grandparents arrived. Sure, it's always the grandparents that mess things up.

As we got into bed, all snuggled and warm, we realized that something wasn't quite right. Our little wiggler was missing. Mike, probably suspicious that I was hiding Charlie on my side, asked if I had him. Nope, not with me. I figured he was just along the bottom portion of the bed. We started doing some feet sweeping. Back and forth we went, feeling along the edge.

We figured he was just hidden along the edge of our pillows. Nope. No Charlie. Maybe he just didn't come into bed yet. Sometimes he stays up chewing his little bone. Sure, that was it. He was still in the kitchen having a snack. After five minutes and still no Charlie, we knew. He wasn't snacking. He left us. Our angel, our perfect baby, my shadow. He left us for the grandparents.

We couldn't believe it. They had only been here one day and already they had taken our Charlie from us. When we woke up we knew what it was all about. Charlie was a sleeper. Tired of having to get up early he did what he had to do. Go where he knew he wouldn't be disturbed from his slumber. The proof is in the pictures. Sadly, our bed is lump free.

But no, my friends it doesn't stop there. When we eat, Charlie is my lap warmer. He squeaks out a tune until I pick him up and place him across my legs. It's customary. It's how I eat. I enjoy a nice meal with a little brown blanket. Alas, I've been replaced. The man in the plaid pajamas, a.k.a. Grandpa, had worked his magic and taken my spot. Grandma had gotten her spot on LoveSac. What was happening? It's not looking good for us. I see a lot of presents under that tree. Our names aren't on all of them. It's looking to be a good Christmas Charlie Brown. A good Christmas indeed.

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