There you are: peering over my pillow. You laugh and say,"Tubby custard!"
I have the odd sensation that I am in a video, trapped in Teletubby Land and you, John, are the eerie baby sun. Much cuter, of course.
"Uh-oh," you say. "Mommy time to get up? Time to say hello?"
I will not lie: I had hoped we had seen the last of that foursome. Do you remember how you WOULD NOT LEAVE THE HOUSE without your Po doll in hand? There was the time you dropped her in a crowded store and we didn't realize it until we were all the way home. Your daddy was so mad and so frantic to find her. (He did, of course, cursing her all the way.)
One day, John, you just stopped carrying Po. I placed her on a shelf with the others and three years passed.
And then this morning.
Tinkywinky. Dipsy. Laalaa. Po.
Say, Heeeeee-lo! "Eh-oh!"