Dayton is our family clown. I know this comes as a shock to most of you who thought I am the family clown. Well, he tries hard. I’ll let you decide who wins that title.
As I mentioned before, we’re holed up in guest housing at the CAM Center for a few weeks while we await a traveling partner for the border crossing. Our apartment has one bedroom and the living room has a futon and enough floor space to lay down a foamy mat thing. The boys are taking turns sleeping on these every other night. (I think we should have done every other week to make it easier to remember!)
Last night, Dayton was on the futon and he was stalling for time even though it was late already. “Give me a hug!” he begged me several times. I finally got around to giving him a manly bear hug and as I started to get up he grabbed me and said, “Don’t get up…give me a hug!” So, I did the obvious thing. I simply squashed him along with lots of “blankies” and a sheet and a pillow somewhere all jumbled in a mass of fluffy giggles.
At that moment his right arm shot out pointing toward his brother on the floor, and from below me came a muffled, giggly voice, “HUG HIM! HUG HIM!”