Driving to get lunch yesterday for the family, I was trying to listen to the MLB channel on my XM radio. The little hooligan I'm holding in this picture could have cared less.
Singing "You dot a biend in me" from Toy Story, no other words, over and over and over again, was good enough for him. However, I noticed my XM was fading in and out, and 3 times the radio slid off the console. I turn around, and he's got the cord in his left hand, swinging it like a lasso, while looking out the window and singing at the top of his lungs.
I'm firmly convinced he is the 3 year old version of Manny: I've never seen a child march to his own drummer as much as Rakes. And just like Manny, I don't think there is a mean bone in his body: ornery, mischievous, and a handful to control? You bet.
I asked my Mom tonight if I was like Rakes when I was a child: according to her, I was, just not quite running at his RPM level is all. Raising this child is the biggest challenge and greatest reward I've had in my 37 years. Don't get me wrong, I love all my kid's the same: it's just I can tell that Ciera and Trot will be nowhere NEAR the challenge Rakes will be.
I'm looking forward to it though: the boy is going to be special.
Speaking of "special", Julian is on the bump in Seattle tonight.
If he comes out wearing a Mariner's cap and yellow rain boots I won't be surprised.
Do We Mean What We Sing?
2 hours ago