Perfect Little J

This kid.

This kid. My oldest. My J. My sweet, laid-back, funny, positive, giggly J. My blue-eyed boy, with wild red hair that refuses, Harry Potter-like, to lay down flat, despite his mother's most attentive ministrations. My boy who, at this moment, lays sick and sad and tired in his bed, afflicted with his first cold of the season. My poor baby.

J is incredibly articulate for his age (which is 3 1/2, in case you're fuzzy on the details), and his dad and I are continually amazed at the grown-up statements that come out of little mouth. Complete with an unexpectedly southern twang. Why, just last week he walked up to his grandmother and solemnly informed her, "Ta, you need to take me to Donut King." Hm.

He is so patient, so very, very patient, with his buggy little sister. He gives her toys, gives her hugs, gives her his time. He is the most patient when his brother is at his whiniest, and he always humors his doting mama with lots of hugs and kisses. He positively writhes with pleasure when he gets to go on special dates with his dad, yet he is always happy to share his treasures with his clamoring brother and sister.

He is, in short, a perfect little J.

I think I'll go kiss his pale little face right now.