Nothing is Simple

Number Two is full of love. He spews it unconditionally. When I donned a bikini top yesterday in preparation for some power washing, he told me he loves my boobies. When we read a Cars book before bed, he looked at an illustration of Mack and said "I love that trailer." Should we pass by a farm on the way to drop off The Boss at school, I can count on him expressing his devotion to "that cow."

He loves colors, friends, and tasty food. He loves breezes and puddle splashing. He loves planes, trains and automobiles. He loves shooting "hoots," which is his word for basketball.

Sometimes when I think of Number Two, I think of Lynyrd Skynyrd's Simple Man. He's only three, but I can't help pondering the person he is poised to become.

Mama told me when I was young
Come sit beside me, my only son,
And listen closely to what I say.
And if you do this
It'll help you some sunny day.

Oh, take your time...Don't live too fast,
Troubles will come and they will pass.
Go find a woman and you'll find love,
And don't forget son,
There is someone up above.

And be a simple kind of man.
Be something you love and understand.
Be a simple kind of man.
Won't you do this for me son,
If you can?

The thing is, unlike the boy in the song, my son doesn't need his mama to tell him how to be. He just knows. And unlike the mama in the song, I'm not sure simplicity is what I want for him. I'm not accustomed to simple kind of men.

I don't know what to make of this little guy who simply loves.