I haven't written you a letter in ages. But I couldn't resist writing one this morning while you're still sleeping quietly.
You have become such an energetic, fun-loving little guy. It's summertime now and all you ever want to do is "bi'ride" in our little bike trailer to the park or go to the "wim'pool" to splash in the water. (Half of the time, I mistake "wim'pool" for "poo" and that always leads to some great confusion between us.)
You are talking up a storm. Unfortunately, it takes me a while to understand your new words. But you certainly know what you want. (For example, "ogurt and apsauce" for dinner tonight.)
At the pool this week, Daddy went off the diving board to show you a big splash. I thought you were saying, "Again! Again!" But after five minutes of your pleas, I realized you were saying "Aaron do it." You would have given anything to do off that diving board. (For the record, I would have put your lifejacket on and let you, but both the lifeguards and daddy said no. Sorry, buddy.) But you've got very good at walking slowly on the pool deck. You look like a little old man bent over and taking tiny steps. You even told a big kid, "No running!" last week.
You went to your first play this week - Lyle the Crocodile presented at the Hangar Theater in Ithaca. I was nervous that you would get bored, but you sat intently through the entire thing and didn't move once. You were equally impressed with the crocodile character, the stage lights, and the other kids running up and down the steps.
I can't wait to have more adventures with you this summer.
All my love,