“Watch me, Mom!” Blake hollers as he tightrope walks along the six-foot-high wall dividing our house from the neighbors’.
Blake dreams of being a Parkour athlete, and thus commutes through his six-year-old life like a monkey, leaping from couch to chair, trampoline to slide. It’s common for my jaunt to the washer and dryer to be interrupted by a head bonk and a “Watch me, Mom!” as an upside-down Blake dangles from the pull-up bar mounted in our laundry room.
PHOTO COURTESY MORGUEFILE.COM
Blake bellows “Watch me, Mom!” as he somersaults down the soccer field, scales a basketball goal, and sprints into gymnastics for the first time, beaming like he just won the lottery, because I’ve finally given in and signed him up for his chosen sport.
I live in fear that someday the little acrobat will leap from our second-story balcony to impress a lovely lady. But for now, most of his tricks are accompanied by a somewhat reassuring “Watch me, Mom!” directed my way.
Like all kindergarten girls, his younger sister is in princess training, and spends her afternoons mixing hues of pink with shades of purple on coloring pages. “Watch me, Mommy!” Gracie grins as she holds up her latest fairytale masterpiece.
“Watch me, Mommy!” she beckons as she twists and twirls across the kitchen floor in a pastel leotard and gauzy skirt.
“Watch me, Mommy!” she pleads... READ THE REST:
Cracking Up: Watch me, Mom! - OC Moms - The Orange County Register
