I have a tendency to obsess over my toddler's butt (let's take a moment to cringe that the next time I check my analytics I will surely find that someone was brought to my blog after a google search for "toddler butt"---get out of mah blog, you sick freak!)
Anyhoooo, I love it. It is the perfect little almost non-butt and I can barely contain my need to give him a little butt squeeze when he walks by me and aver with enthusiasm, "I LOVE THIS BUTT!!" Now that we're in an experimental potty-training phase, there is plenty o' naked baby butt wandering around my house and I am relishing it now while I have a chance because I know soon enough, and rightfully so, he will be too old to be cavorting bare-bottomed through the house.
Perhaps, though, I need to reign it in a bit. This afternoon, as I leaned over the dining room table to find a puzzle piece to jam into the jigsaw I've been working on for the past week and a half, I heard the pitter patter of Ethan's bare feet approaching. Next, I feel two little hands patting my bum repeatedly and hear Ethan's voice, a perfect imitation of my own, excitedly proclaiming, "I LOVE THIS BUTT!!"
My kid? Cracks me up.