Baby. He's our monkey man. Our climber. Our most determined one. Addicted to gum, real cell phones (I hand my phone to him and admonish, "Now don't dial China!" and he responds, "I pwomiss I won't call China, Mommy. Who China?"), and sneaking sips of my Coke Zero.
Yet. Poor buddy never gets to watch his beloved Elmo. It's always ESPN (Eldest) or Cartoon Network (Middle) on the TV. Nothing he plays with is age-appropriate. The child rarely gets a brand new article of clothing (why would he?). Same with shoes. He's currently sporting my Nephew's hand-me-down Nike Shox and thinks they're the COOLEST THINGS EVER.
At his parent-teacher conference, his preschool teacher showed us Baby's "journal" (she asked him questions and wrote down his responses).
His middle name? He gave Middle's.
His birthday? He gave Middle's.
Thankfully, he's only 3 (actually, 3-1/2 at the end of this month - ack!) and doesn't realize he's being shortchanged (if that's even the right word for it?)
I guess I just want to make sure he knows his place in this world, and more importantly, his very special place in our own family Trenches.
And dammit, that starts with knowing his middle name is Scott and his birthday is June 29th.