Come on lucky eight, mama needs a break

For over 18 months now, whenever Andrew (who will be three on June 29th) and I watch Sesame Street and they get to the part about the number of the day, I have to listen to Andrew say “Eight! Eight! I want it to be eight” over and over again. Of course, it is always any number but eight. And then I have to hear “NO! NO! EIGHT! EIGHT! EIGHT!” for roughly five minutes. (Note: Andrew’s favorites – the letter “W”, the color “green” and the number “eight” every time we go in the grocery – he wants aisle eight!)

Today, on this dark, misty morning when I’m feeling tired and overwhelmed….the number of the day is EIGHT! Thank you sweet, merciful Jesus…you are a good and just God. I’m dancing, smiling, telling Andrew – “hooray, it is eight!!”. Two seconds later, “I want it to be SEVEN. NO! SEVEN! SEVEN!” God, why have you forsaken me?

Males are “men” even when they are three.