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.