Griffin is rotten at keeping surprises. He has to be shushed and zipped and quieted down because he just plain sucks at the whole secret game. Or, if he manages to keep one right up until the last minutes, he blurts it out MOMENTS before you are going to find out for yourself. He just has to be the one that tells you.
Two years ago, on Mothers day, Griffin and Steve got up early, scurried around the house in whispers and tiptoes. I finally heard Steve tell Griffin it was time to go "wake up" Mommy and show her the present. Griffin came bursting into our room and yelled "Mommy, come and see your NEW BIKE!"
This year, I knew he had made me something at school, and I knew it was made on "Pottery day." He TRIED to tell me what it was last week when he brought it home, but he was successfully silenced by Steve. This morning, after I had a wee sleep in (thank you Jesus!) I finally emerged into the living room. I poured my coffee. I accidentally spilled a generous helping of Baileys into it (thank you Steve!) and parked my butt on the couch. Griffin walked over to gingerly handed me a small package.
"It has my hand in it!" he proudly proclaimed!
And so I opened it. And indeed it did - a print of his hand adorned a clay plaque with his name on it. Super cute. But not nearly as cute as the four year old little piece of sunshine that makes my days worth getting out of bed for.
(Some days "piece of sunshine" are hardly the words I would use to describe my oldest son, but Griffin's good moments are oh so wonderfully good that they nearly make the bad ones melt away.)
And his little brother, the one that follows him around and mimics his every move? (Help me lord!) He's a little piece of sunshine too. He's another damn fine reason to get out of bed in the morning, and to crawl back into it, usually with him, at night!
I love these little turkeys. (I love their Daddy too.) Thank you to all my family for a wonderful day.