My Inner Child

Yesterday the Finnfatha & I tried a little “Freaky Friday”-style role reversal: as I tried to get him to nap a bit (okay, to let me nap, too), we decided that he was the dad-o & I was the kid. As I laid on the couch he relished bringing me blankets: “I’m putting them onto your chest & stuffing them under your chin, like a bib!” When he eventually laid down at the other end of the couch, he noticed that his “Looen” Leo was MIA.

“Kid!” he said. “Your looen is missing! I think he’s in the basement!” (meaning I’d need to get up and open the safety gate)
“Oh Dad-O,” I said in falsetto, “It’s okay. I don’t need my looen right now.”
“Yes you do, kid!” he insisted. “If you don’t have him you’ll cry and cry!”

Oh boy. So up I got, opened the gate, laid back down & shut my eyes. Soon, through the floor, I could hear Finn cackling to himself. Up the stairs he came, laughing all the way. As he came to the doorway he said, “Ki-iiiid, I have a surprise for yo-oou!!”

With my eyes still shut, and with some nervousness, I asked, “Um… is it a looen?”

“It’s NOT a looen,” he declared triumphantly, “It’s a DIPE!!” And running over, he placed a (thankfully unused!) diaper on my chest (and thankfully not elsewhere!).

[PS: As I was finishing this post, Henry spied me Googling for pictures of diapers. Now he’s convinced that this crazy diaper-helmet kid is Finny. “It’s *not* Finny!” protests his bro, to no avail. –J.]

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