If there was a fly (which is not usually a common bug for us here in Chicago probably because of the cold weather) on the wall in our house last week, this is what he would have witnessed:

I saw just-having-woke-up-from-nap Evan with his arms wrapped around Tom's leg while both of them were watching golf. As usual by the time I got the camera they were on to me.

Tom and I were watching tv. Evan was sitting on the coffee table holding a small notebook with his left side to us. I elbowed Tom, "your son loves to read so much that he's pretending to read even if the pages are blank." He was mumbling for the most part but we distinctly heard him say, "theeeeee (as he flipped through five pages before he reached the last leaf) end." He closed the notebook, nodded his head with satisfaction and gave his verdict, "that was a gooood story!"

*****

Wanting to see my son's reaction, I smacked many kisses on his daddy. Sure enough our son approached us, looking up he asked, "heeeeyyyy, what's going on here?". Daddy and I ignored him, we just laughingly kept on giving each other many small kisses. Evan hugged both our legs and demanded authoritatively, "stop! stop!" It's universal, kids don't like too much mushiness.

***** 

Evan's card for daddy. He literally picked that by himself. I was browsing for musical cards, but Evan in his stroller scooped this up from the bottom section, plucked the bowtie and put it in his neck. "A tie!" he announced proudly. So mommy had no choice but to buy the damaged card. Evan also wrote the letters himself, with the help from his mommy. I've read that reading and writing usually go together.

As related to me by my husband. Evan and Tom were in our son's bed getting ready for his bedtime. All of a sudden, our three year old gave a different kind of laugh. Tom laughed. Evan repeated the strange laughter but this time pointing to his daddy, "that's you!" Apparently, he was imitating his dad.

*****

Late at night after Tom and I have finished watching "The Wrestler" (Mickey Rourke) on video, I teasingly tickled Tom. "Ilok," (eee-lok) my husband said in mock seriousness. It's the bisayan word for armpit. I pointed to his eyes. This time he drew blank. "Mata," (mah-tah) I reminded him. I pointed to his nose. Still another blank stare. "Ilong," (eee-long) I supplied again, a tad reprovingly. I pointed to his ear. Without missing a beat Tom answered, "earlong." This had us cracking up for a long time. The correct word by the way should have been "dunggan."