4yo sprang into bed with me this morning. "I'm back!" he announced, and then gave me the full impact of his big baby blues at very close range. "I will share chocolate milk with you," he said with a little smile. A master bestowing a gift on a beloved acolyte. "Really!? You will share chocolate milk with me?" I affect wonder and gratitude. "Yeah. Let's do it!!" He vaults back out of bed, bound for the kitchen, leaving me to trail in his wake. I assemble the "gree-ents" and 4yo finds a suitable vessel and combines them in an utterly absorbed fashion, carefully urging some stray grains of vitamin/chocolate mix from the rim with one finger tip, making sound effects under his breath.
The perfect accompaniment to sharing chocolate milk is apparently
cat videos on YouTube. I find a likely playlist and set it to run while I read email. I learn that there are a lot of 'cat on a treadmill' videos on YouTube, and also that there a number of videos--a narrow-minded person might say too many--of assorted substances being flushed down the toilet.
Then it's time to be a cat himself. I may be his mom cat. A little later, still in cat mode, he comes dashing into the bedroom. "Dad almost saw me!" "Dad almost saw the baby cat?" "Yes!" "And what would happen if Dad saw the baby cat?" "He will claw him with his claws. [demonstrates with curled fingers] He's kind of a ninja."