Yesterday the boys did a new Black Panther YouTube workout. They yelled, “Mom, Mom come here! Black Panther is fat!” Of course I came running. I’m proud to report that Black Panther was simply promoting realistic body images for little boys.
Mid-morning, I did my first streaming class with my usual Pilates teacher. She had this fantastic coffee cup that a client gave her with her signature saying on one side, and “The tears of Casey Canino’s clients” on the other. After a tough mat class, we all walked the Bob Jones trail. While we walked, Nate started singing a little jingle the kids made-up at school “Lávate las manos, no quieres la coronavee-roos.” It’s quite catchy.
In the afternoon I watched some Netflix and took a nap.
Last night I was putting Jake to bed and as I was kissing him goodnight, I smelled his hair. “Why does your hair smell so good? Did you wash it?”
“No.”
“Wait a second… I know that smell. You smell like Daddy’s armpits!”
Seriously, he smelled like deodorant because he’d been cuddling with his dad on the couch, his head cradled gently in his father’s armpit.
We couldn’t stop laughing. Nighty night Armpithead. I love you.