in other words

This is an email from my wonderful step-mom whose didactic skills eclipese my own.

He has been such a happy little camper today! He was all cheerful and never even considered crying when we picked him up and hauled him off to our place. He got out of the car and strode through the house like he was in his element, onto the futon, pointed to his books, then strode to the back door and said "out!". Well, there's no arguing with that kind of logic. I let him out, and he quickly spotted his "tratch", grabbed it, the lifted his hand saying, "holp!", and I assisted him down the ramp and headed without hesitation to his sand box, stopping to touch the yellow plastic cart I cleaned for him yesterday, saying "tratch". Being the bright lad that he is he saw trouble ahead, as the sand box was closed. He said, "holp!", as we neared it and I removed the top post-haste. Once again, he lifted his little chubby hand, and said, "holp", and I gave him a hand into the sand pit. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Happy boy! He was all industry and planning, moving cars, boats, shells and sundry clutter to their respective places. Once again, all was not right with the world, and he handed me a car whose tires had come off. "Holp!" I am at his beckon call. His happy servant. Lord, can this child be any CUTER!!!!! We have since been to the pool, tried sitting on the edge, but soft walls just collapse and water spills on to him. He is unfazed. He casually points out to me that there is a "shark" in the water (perfectly pronounced), and watches in amusement as it tries to swallow, a ladder, a fish, a ball, then beaches himself on a passing ark. Shows over, and he has places to go, books to read! Up the ramp we go, covered in wet sandy rompers. Once again, the boy climbs the doggie steps onto the futon, and settles in for a good read. He is rubbing his eyes and grabbling his "bank", thumb in mouth. Gam reads to his little highness til she must have breakfast! I remind the boy that he has not had anything to "shrink", and hand him is sippy cup. Glug, glug, glug, glug... all done. While Grandma stuffs her face with Quaker Oats squares, she pops in "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs". (One of the funniest animated movies ever made!!! If you haven't seen it, YOU MUST!!! I laugh my head off in between spoonfuls of cereal, and sharing my cereal with adorable blonde baby.) Boy is noticeably sleepy, as hilarious movie progresses. Grandma scoops up adorable sleepy baby and heads off to crib thingy. He points out the need for tiny bears, which I release from the hanging wall basket and into chubby baby hands. Sweet happy baby plays with tiny bears as Grandma changes wet diapers (No poop! WHEW! Temporary reprieve!). Baby laughs and tosses tiny bear into the air. Grandma retrieves flying bears, then puts laughing baby and bears into crib for nap. Baby commences squawking, but Grandma kisses sweet little blonde head twenty times and promises to come back after his nap. Turns on fan, leaves the door open a crack and walks away. Baby remains squawking for 5 1/2 seconds, then zonks out into happy baby coma at 10:50 AM.

and the 2nd email of the day said:

Yes, the afternoon was just as fun as the morning. Me and the boy watched his fish DVD after his nap while we ate lunch. He loved it, of course. The grilled cheese sandwich was not a huge success. I made it with Havarti cheese, and he didn't much like it, although he ate a strip of it, and two or three small pieces of just the cheese. The raisins were a HUGE hit! He happily snarfed those down, and I gave him two refills. He was very suspicious of the ice cream cookie sandwich. I cut it into small pieces and even tried feeding it to him with a spoon, but he didn't trust it. Then we went out for a stroller ride which was cut short by the fact that it was hot as blazes. Kiernan kept saying, "hot". And he was totally right. When we got back we decided to watch a little more Winnie the Pooh, and we sat through a couple of episodes before he felt that he needed to attend to his sandbox. (But first he must grab our spare, dreaded, despised, wireless keyboard which we have donated to his use, place it on the ground and stand on it. My feelings precisely. Good boy.) At the sandbox we made roads in the sand for his cars, and he made liberal use of his horn while driving, "BEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP!" We fashioned a trailer harness out of an ivy vines (not the poison variety) and attached it to his dog on wheels toy, and he was thus able to tow his hotwheel cars precariously through his sandbox. Next, he went to check on his pool toys. They were fine, but he decided they needed a little "push". He wiggled his little hands in the water, and I proceeded to show him a less-than-awesome display of shark biting prowess. Our poor shark has a loose jaw grip, which is never able to hold things properly. Everything it bites just falls out of it's mouth like drool. Kiernan was intrigued and emboldened to take hold of the beast and examine him up close and personal, turning him over, then placing him gently back in the pool. Up to this time I had not tested the hose connection on our little pool that is supposed to add a sprinkler feature to it. I figured now would be as good a time as any. I prepared the boy for what was to come, ("Hey, Kiernan, wanna get SPRINKLED??!!"), and he was totally on board with it. I connected the hose, and he was all interested in how that was done, then I ran over to the spigot and turned on the water pressure to very low, while he stood by the pool expectantly, until the water started sprinkling lightly, he backed away a little, hopping once or twice, then he started shaking his little head back and forth with a big smile on his face, his little hands out in front of him, stepping in and out of the mist. You may not have noticed this before, but he is extremely adorable. I mean EXTREMELY! I turned up the water pressure slightly more, then ran back to join him, twirling and jumping and generally demonstrating the cooling properties of a good sprinkle. I believe I presented a persuasive argument. He appeared convinced. And drenched. We turned off the hose, and proceeded back to the house for drying, but not before he gingerly and carefully made his way up to our angel statue (a clear case of like calling to like.) in front of Molly's grave, and studied it with a serious little face, very lightly touching it. I was, naturally, in a panic to get to my camera (OMG!!! WHERE IS MY CAMERA!!!! OMG!!!! AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!) but it was in the house (AGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!). The moment lost. (WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!) I tried recreating it later, but nope. It wasn't happening. He looked at me in confusion, wondering why I would dump him so ceremoniously inside my flowerbed, ("Gam has really lost it this time..."), then carefully extricated himself without a glance at the angel statue. (WAHHHHHHH!!!!) Curses!!! But, it is forever in my head, and that will have to do (I'm sure it'll be safe there! A steel trap!).