He does not, for example, just whip off his diaper and streak through the house; he sings in Spanish while he's streaking, and he gyrates.
Buenos noches indeed, sir!
He is relentless in his quest for moist and supple lips, carrying a watermelon Chapstick on his tiny person at all times and applying liberally every four to six seconds.
And last night, while the boys were chatting underneath the kitchen table instead of eating their dinner, Gus casually asked Patrick, “Do you love me, Patrick?” And Patrick said, “Yes. I love you always, Gus.” And then a white dove flew out of my salad and scattered rose petals all over my heart.
In spite of his cuteness though--or perhaps because of it—Patrick now thinks it is acceptable to wake up every night crying and begging to sleep in our bed. If we do not comply with his demands, he throws his Minty Bunny at our heads and screams and wakes up his brother and frankly, I AM OLD AND TIRED AND WHY CAN'T WE ALL JUST ACT LIKE CIVILIZED ADULTS FOR THE LOVE OF GOD IF YOU PLEASE AND THANK YOU VERY MUCH.
My personality isn't that great to begin with. But without sleep, I haveno personality.
I am anger and hair.