Dear Lincoln

Dear Lincoln,

I love the way you bring me flowers whenever you are playing in the yard. I tell you, "Okay, that's enough! No more flowers." You run outside, "Okay, mom" but moments later, I see a giant, blue eye peeking around the wide open door, followed by a tiny hand clasping another yellow bunch, roots and dirt attached. "Mom? Can I just give you flowers one more time because I love you so much?" How can I resist. "Okay. One more time."

This goes on for quite awhile, with the beautifully heartfelt pickings of daisies and dandelions continuing to pile up. I'm a tad bit bugged that "last time" never registers, and you are blatantly disobeying me. I am always very consistent with discipline! This moment, this is when I begin to feel guilty. I cannot be annoyed at your genuine sweetness. How long will you bring me flowers because you "love so much?" When will these flowers be meant for another? You say I am your sweetheart. You will always be my sweetheart.

Tonight as you decorated my hair, you wrinkled your forehead, realizing you were running out of room behind my ear. "Oh! I've got an idea! We can put 'em in your nosslers!" I think you meant nostrils. Daddy and I didn't have the heart to correct you, as we tried to conceal our giggles. "Nosslers" they will be, from now until you figure out the real word.

I love you, my quirky boy.
Mommy