Growing Up

Even though Bubba and Moose started out in their beds last night, we awoke (for the 10th time) this morning with Moosie in our bed and me in Bubba's bed.

Bubba, with the energy no one should have when first waking up, "Mommy, mommy, I had a dream!"

Me, laying sideways with Bubba's sharp toenails kneading my gut, "Was it a good dream?"

Perched on his elbow, about an inch from my face, "Yeah! I was a dinosaur digger."

Moving back to avoid the morning-breath spittle in my face, "A paleontologist?"

Jumping up to his knees, "Yeah! A paleontologist! I want to be a paleontologist when I'm growing up."

A slight pause and then, "Mommy?"

A sigh, "Yes baby."

He looks at me inquisitively, "What do you want to be when you're growing up?"

Tiredly I reply, "Honey, I'm already grown up."

With bright eyes and a look of realization, "Oh, so you want to be a mommy when you're growing up!?"

Well, yes. Yes I do, I thought as Bubba bounced off the bed into the other room to wake up Daddy and Moose.
Once again, my 7-year-old little boy has put it all in perspective.