plant a butterfly

This morning I had such a hard time getting out of bed. I use my cell phone as my alarm clock, and the snooze button on that thing gives me only five minutes. Gurgle.

At 8 a.m., 20 snoozes past the time I wanted to get up, my sister texted me to tell me she's sick, and could I take my nephew to swim lesson. Of course.

He and I had a wonderful morning, as usual. We played inside his Thomas the Tank Engine tent; he helped me clean up the kitchen and vacuum for his mom; we counted down the last minute til our oven-baked pizza was ready; and we played three games of Trouble.

Before I left he proved that it is not impossible to plant a butterfly kiss on my nose AND my cheek at the same time, and then he gave me a message to give to Wicket:

"When you see Wicket when you go home, tell him that I miss him and can't wait to see him. And tell Kai I'll play with him too. What color are Kai's eyes?" [Green, I told him.] "What color are Wicket's eyes?" [Goldenny-yellow.] "Ok, so that's how I'll tell them apart. And tell Meera that she needs to come out from under the bed so we can play, and tell her that I'll give her a treat if she does and that she shouldn't be so shy, I'll play with the feather with her and be quiet so she doesn't get scared. And tell Wicket that, um, that, tell Wicket that I'll see him soon. Okay?"