Passion

My boys are passionate over little things, but sometimes I wonder if they go a little overboard.

Take this morning for example. As Big Brother was eating breakfast, he screamed and burst into tears. I ran to see what had happened as he cried, "My jack-o'-lantern fell over!" Sure enough, Mr. Pumpkin Guts (sitting atop our table because the boys liked looking at their little orange buddies) had become mush and fell over onto the side of his face. He was also leaking. Big Brother was extremely upset, to say the least. I had to explain to him that pumpkins rot and don't last forever, but he cried and cried over the little mushy thing.

Baby Jaws was also very passionate this morning. He and I went to CrapMart to pick up a couple of things. We grabbed some Cheetos to eat with our sandwiches at lunch. Cheetos are Baby Jaw's favorite. I showed him the bag sitting on the shelf as he squealed with excitement. He took the bag from my hand and hugged them. It was more than a hug though. It was one big, long snuggle. He held onto that bag of Cheetos tightly, with his little head on them (the same way he snuggles his teddy bear when he's ready to go to sleep at night) snuggling up, giving those Cheetos his love all the way to the checkout lane.

So my boys are very passionate about the things they love. I think that's a good thing. At least I'll keep telling myself that for the time being. Although looking back, maybe they are just passionate about things that are orange. Either way, I love my little sensitive guys.