Shortly after I woke up yesterday, Jeffrey wished me a happy Mother’s Day for the first time. He repeated it several times over the course of the day (along with repeatedly wishing his father a happy birthday; it was Steve’s birthday yesterday too). I’m not complaining certainly, as I know the day will come that he forgets until three days later. I just thought it was really cute that he kept coming over to say, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mommy!” and give me a hug and kiss.
Well, apparently Steve had really worked with Jeffrey about how important Mother’s Day was, because today when I picked up Jeffrey from school, he ran over and said, “Happy Mother’s Day!”
I tried to explain that yesterday was Mother’s Day, but he insisted today was too. Mother’s Day, he explained to me solemnly, was a very special day for mommies, and it happened every day. He explained more about his idea of Mother’s Day as we started walking home, and then he said something about giving me a present.
I was a little confused, since my Mother’s Day present had been a day off and a special dinner cooked by Steve. “You gave me a present?”
“No, Ironman gave you a present!” Jeffrey has a slight Iroman obsession right now, partly (I’m sure) from hearing classmates talk about him and partly from seeing Ironman on his Daddy’s ship (the mine warfare community’s motto is “Wooden Ships, Iron Men”).
“Ironman gave me a present?” I asked.
“Yeah!” Jeffrey said. “He gave you yarn!”
Ironman is wise.