I often wonder if any of my sons are like me.
Lately, I scanned my baby pictures looking for some facial resemblance to my sons and didn't find much.
Occasionally, I glimpsed a certain expression and would exclaim, "There! They look like me!", but then I would turn to another picture of myself and think that no, I must be mistaken.
I put my baby pictures away with a sad, little sigh. I didn't want to believe that the ones I had carried inside me for nine months and labored through excruciating pain didn't have one iota of resemblance to me.
Today, I was enjoying a conversation with Doc upstairs when I heard, "Grumpy!"
I must explain that it wasn't a short, sharp yell. It was long and drawn out. It had the feeling of utter exasperation permeating throughout the word. It sounded as if the lungs were expiring as much carbon dioxide out of them as possible. It spoke of anger and frustration.
It was spoken by his older brother, Bashful.
And he sounded just like me.
Lately, I scanned my baby pictures looking for some facial resemblance to my sons and didn't find much.
Occasionally, I glimpsed a certain expression and would exclaim, "There! They look like me!", but then I would turn to another picture of myself and think that no, I must be mistaken.
I put my baby pictures away with a sad, little sigh. I didn't want to believe that the ones I had carried inside me for nine months and labored through excruciating pain didn't have one iota of resemblance to me.
Today, I was enjoying a conversation with Doc upstairs when I heard, "Grumpy!"
I must explain that it wasn't a short, sharp yell. It was long and drawn out. It had the feeling of utter exasperation permeating throughout the word. It sounded as if the lungs were expiring as much carbon dioxide out of them as possible. It spoke of anger and frustration.
It was spoken by his older brother, Bashful.
And he sounded just like me.
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