I am loved...by a four year old boy in Tennessee. At least that's what he told his Grammy & his Mama yesterday. When I called last night to find out if he still loved me, H.T. shouted, "Bee love you, Aunt FarmWife! Dis is my gun for shooting!" I was so relieved. At one point during the conversation he threw too many bombs at his mother and her brains came out. It's dangerous enough talking to H.T. on the phone. I imagine living with him is much like living in a Bruce Willis movie.
I tried to get him to tell his mother what Bitsy named our lambs but that didn't turn out as I'd expected. He knows their names are Buzz, Woody, Jessie, and Bo Peep. When I told him that he shouted (no, he really doesn't have any other means of communication...at least not with me), "Dat's just like Buzz Lightyear, Aunt FarmWife!!" But somehow when he told his mom last night, their names were drastically different. "Dere names is Liza, Sawmill, and Pancake." To which his mother & I could only reply, "What?!" Still haven't figured that one out.
Last week H.T. and Pa were playing their favorite game. Pa hides and H.T. goes looking for him. When H.T. gets close, Pa jumps out and yells, "Rawr!!" H.T. screams and runs from him and it starts all over again. Occasionally someone gets tossed on a bed & tickled until he nearly wets his pants. But this time things were a bit different.
When Dad hid from H.T., H.T. thought his Pa had left for work. So when Dad jumped out of the bathroom & "rawr"ed him, H.T. jumped back, covered his eyes, and screamed, "Pa! You scared the hell outta' me!" (I can't help but laugh as I type that.) Daddy wasn't expecting that at all. He looked at Mama and said, "I have to go to work now," and he walked out of the house. I'm not sure he'd made it out of the drive way when he called to tell me the story.
I hate that I miss out on so much of H.T. living so far away from him. There's something about that boy that fascinates me. I know, I have 4 of my own, but my nephew still holds a special place in my heart. I remember jumping up & down and screaming when Princess called to tell me she was expecting. I remember crying when I was horribly ill and couldn't go see him until he was a week & a half old. I remember being shocked at how very tiny he was when his dad handed him to me for the first time (around 4 lbs, 11 ounces).
I do wish we could see him more often, but I am so thankful for unlimited long distance phone plans and my parents' speaker phone. It keeps me a bit more in the loop & allows him to "show" me all the fabulous things he has at Grammy & Pa's house ("See, Aunt FarmWife? Dis is my gun. It is gleen and it is orange and my Aunt Audra gived it to me!"). It's nice to know that rarely a week goes by that he doesn't demand someone bring him to my house regardless of the 5 hour drive (not that his demands are ever met...but he tries). It's tickles me when he tells his mother that our great dane, Bonpas, is his, "Big Blown fliend," (his r's are said as l's) and he lays claim to her even though he won't let her near him when he's here. It cracks me up when his dad calls him & he answers the phone asking, "Uncle FarmBoy?! Is dat you, FarmBoy?!" as though his Uncle FarmBoy has ever called him on the phone.
H.T. adds his own brand of sparkle to my world. And it's a brand I'm more than a bit partial to.