Four years old.
Attending preschool 3 mornings a week.
Still not always using the potty when he is supposed to.
Wakes up totally grumpy.
Or.
Totally sweet.
But the sweet wears off usually by the time he has to go to the potty.
He sings when he plays games.
He plays games when he eats.
He eats like a puppy most of the time.
And he whines like a puppy when it's time for bed.
He loves playing tricks, and bugging his siblings and can't have Daddy leave for work without giving him a high-5, exploding knuckles, hug, kiss, pinky promise and arm bump.
His idiosyncrasies are almost too much to deal with in a given day.
Yet our days wouldn't be the same without them.
He can drive us all crazy, and then melt us all in the same two-minute time span.
He must have some hidden super power or something. Because with a single tight squeeze around your neck, you forgive him for all the little crazy and big things he's done and all he makes you feel is Love.
Oh, Teague.
What a guy.
