All my boy baby asked for from Santa for Christmas was "twains." That's it. Nothing more. Just "twains."
If you've ever been in the Fayetteville Barnes and Noble you may have noticed the train table in the kids' reading area. Jeb loves that train table... so much so that it's hard to get him to leave. Ok, that's not true. He never actually leaves of his own volition. The leaving is forced. And there's screaming. And kicking. And tears. And begging. "My TWAINS!! Pwease Mama... My TWAINS!" It's just ugly.
So imagine how happy that little boy was when he opened up his very own train table at Gigi's house on Christmas day. The only problem was... it was still in the box. Obviously, we had to wait until we got it home to get it out and ready for him. I think he sort of understood the explanation.
So he found a nice comfy spot in front of the box, parked himself, and stared. No whining or speaking or crying. Just silent staring.
Later that day, his daddy set everything up in his room, and we haven't seen him since.
4 days ago