Bubbles and Jobe

I'm beginning to understand.
Why the baby in the family is spoiled.

I didn't intend to spoil him.
Really, I didn't.
It just happens.

All of the kids' friends don't help.
Especially Brookelynn and Jake's.
They carry him around.
Tell him how cute he is.He's still so tiny.
But at least he's growing.
He finally outgrew most of his 3T pants.
But 4T shirts still swim on him.I'm trying to get him ready for kindergarten.
Learning all those important things.
Letters and numbers.
Writing his name.
Cutting with scissors.
Wiping his own bottom.
(He's been stubborn on this one.
But I'm certain his teacher next year
will thank me for teaching him this skill.)
He told me today:
My voice is changing.
Don't you think Momma?
Doesn't it sound different?Walking home hand-in-hand this morning.
After taking Ezra to school.
Me: Jobie, how much do you love your mommy?
Jobie (in a loud voice and with a big hop):
A bunch!Then I asked him:
How much does Mommy love you?
He answered:
Forever!No wonder I spoil him.
He always has the perfect answer.