“Oh Bea, you’re so silly-willy!”
“No! I’m not! I’m silly!”
“Yes, I am!
“Then who am I?”
It could be just me, but these are some of the greatest words and sounds I’ve ever heard.
After an amazing weekend in New York surprise-visiting one of my best friends, I’ve been in DC this week, visiting my family specifically spending as much time with my precocious little niece and my little man of a nephew.
The Silly-Willy Man loved this particular holiday season with his Silly Girl and Little Big Guy.
In between saying goodbye to my niece in the morning dropping her off at school when we decided to have a painting party this evening to picking her up after soccer practice, I get to hang with my one-year-old little man. Everything is brand new, a shiny new experience. Every step is deliberate, one foot thumping after the other, onto his playground called a family room. Clad in plaid, rockstar wavy hair disheveled sometimes covering his big, beautiful grey-blue eyes and plump cheeks, he grips his best friend Raffy (the giraffe) while he searches for big Lego blocks.
In the background in between Christmas music, I heard Donovan’s “Hurdy-Gurdy Man”.
The Silly-Willy Man had met the Hurdy Gurdy Man. And yet it was I who “came singing songs of love.”
Life is good.
Go Adventure. Go Travel. Go Live.
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