Sweet, sweet, Jophis.
Jophalicious. Jo-Jo. Jofestival. Bananajo. Jo-da-man.
All these crazy names we use with great affection to describe you and your big personality, yet none of them quite describe this:
Now that the baby of the family is rockin' close to thirty pounds, he thinks he's way too big to sit in his high chair and prefers to stand up and eat. The other day, I gave him the serious look and told him in very slow, specific terms,
Sit.......Down......Joseph.....William.....Karol (gives the ol' one eye stare).
Did he cry at my firm command? Nope. Did he whine? Nope. Did he growl? Nope. Spit his carrots? Not even.
He stinkin' eye-rolled me.
Oh, this one was really good. Practically all whites there.
Then, the moment comes when he knows we're all watching our little owl perform his optical tricks.
He's got us all in stitches. His brothers, especially are wailing with laughter!
And, there it is - the grin - Mr. Blue Eyes cracks even himself up!
Look at my teef!
If there's anything sad to be said about this delightful little aspect of Joseph's personality, it's that his gift for the roll comes from me. 100%, no doubt about it.
With the birth of every one of our boys, I've completely accepted that they will all most likely inherit their father's masculine traits. But, deep down, I've also hoped that maybe they would also get a little something good from me. (Besides that rather large bite you see above. What can I say, dentists love us.)
Like my love for music, for instance. No takers yet. They're pretty good shower singers, though! Or, maybe my affection for writing, reading, gardening, or running. Still waiting on those to bloom, too.
To Joseph's future wife: I'm sorry. The eye-rolling. I know, it's just...well, it just is. Bad service at the Taco Bell drive through and annoying or unreasonable behaviors tend to set it off, just FYI.
My best advise? Just roll with it. Ha!