Pasto' Micah

Gabe and I were folding washcloths upstairs last night. He was jabbering away a mile a minute so happy to have Mommy's undivided attention. Unfortunately, Mommy's "Gabe-ese" was failing so he was having to repeat himself two and three times for me to get it all deciphered.

He started talking about "Micah with blue eyes not like my brown ones." (He's big into eye color these days and would really like blue eyes if he had a choice.) I'm thinking, 'He doesn't have a friend names Micah with blue eyes...who is he talking about?'. So I questioned him trying to get him to say the name more clearly or get more info to figure out who he was talking about. Finally (three repeats later) I heard "Pasto' Micah". Ah ha, light bulb! "Gabe are you talking about Pastor Mike?" I asked. "Yeah, I want hair like his!" he replied with a big grin. "I want my hair shorter." We'd buzzed his hair that morning to 1/4 inch. You don't go much shorter--unless you want hair like Pastor Mike, who is...you guessed it...bald on top.

Oh the things we wish for...I didn't give into the Mommy tape number 321 about being thankful for how God made each of us, but I did giggle for awhile.