Addictive

The gleeful giggles I get from this little boy are seriously intoxicating. He has the Ellis laugh. Hearty, loud, and guttural. And though just about anyone can produce them -- he laughs a ton -- almost no one can make him laugh quite as loud or as long as I can (at least in my humble opinion). We have a bond, the two of us, that is undeniable. Walking through the grocery store just tonight, he wanted me to carry him everywhere, just so we could snuggle cheek to cheek and he could mutter nonsensical sweet-nothings in my ear. He knows I understand his little heart, even if no actual English word makes it through the exchange. We played nose to nose for an hour on Wednesday morning on the sidelines of Esther's dance class, and he kept throwing his head back and laughing so loud and so gutturally, I thought the instructor was going to kick us out. Throughout the day each day, he runs to me, wraps his arms around my legs, and says, "Mama, up, up!" just so he can wrap his short, chubby arms around my neck and hold me for several minutes while I take every advantage of his kissably round cheeks.

He is addictive, my sweet little son. Simply addictive.