Maybe he didn't like purple. Patrick pulled over the plastic crayon basket and looked for another one. Maybe blue was better.
This little kid logic makes me smile and feel nostalgic and it's just so sweet and spot-on.
When Cathie Trohman's little boy ran out of kindergarten that day, trailing a tiny redheaded child with him, she thought that things in Winnetka might just be alright, after all.
I can just see tiny!Joe dragging tiny!Patrick around and it's adorable.
"Mommy, hith name ith Patwick," Joe informed her, thumping his action figure against her shoulder, as if she was actually embarrassing him.
"Well, hello, Patrick. Pleased to meet you." She held out a hand for him to shake, but he turned away and buried his face in his mother's shoulder, peeking back at her shyly.
"He's very timid," his mother acknowledged, patting his back and smiling. "He doesn't really make many friends."
"HE'TH MY FWIEND!" Joe yelled gleefully and Patrick immediately lifted his head and giggled.
The lisp slays me. And Patrick! With the face hiding! The cute. Seriously.
Joe looked at his little pink cupcake with the strawberry on top and thought for a minute. Then he picked it up and dropped it in Patrick's lunchbox with a grin. Patrick stared at it and then picked up the brown square of cake wrapped in plastic and dropped it in Joe's. Joe was a bit disappointed. It didn't look even nearly as exciting as his cupcake, but it tasted okay. Joe took a bite and gave it back. Patrick made him eat the other half of the cupcake.
Sharing sweets as a child is the biggest declaration of love imaginable. It's sweet, and you're giving me cavities, but, jeez, keep it coming. Also? I love that Joe's disappointed but still willing to share. So selfless.
"It's alright," Joe was saying knowledgeably. "Kisses always make it better."
Patrick giggled and cuddled the dog. Apparently, he wasn't such a useless friend after all.
I love this exchange so much. It's so real and so sweet (I am failing at finding other words. This is entirely your fault, just so you know. :} ) and I love that it's all better because Joe made it that way. This is definitely one of my favorite interactions.
At lunchtime he sat at the table and stared at his cupcake – blue, with star sprinkles – and didn't want to eat it if he couldn't give half to Patrick. He left the whole thing on the table and thought the birds might like it. Seeds and worms were probably boring after a while.
Your voices are wonderful, as usual. They're also age appropriate. Too often, people over simplify children, which is not how they are at all. You've really got the age-group down.
...which meant sitting next to Emma-May and she had freckles and Joe didn't want to catch them.
See above. Catching freckles. Oh, Joe. So sweet and childish and true to children.
When Joe was eight, though, Katie Greemore kissed him in the playground and Patrick hit her so hard she fell in the flower patch the first graders made and squashed all the flowers.
Jealous Patrick as an eight year old. This is just. Oh. I love this so much.
"People..." Patrick looked over at Joe and physically shifted nearer to him, protectively. "People say stuff. About the way Joe says things. There's this one mean kid called Wayne that threw a basketball in his face so I hit him and then his friends came and started a fight and it was everyone else against Joe and me but we kind of won anyway... but now Wayne and his friends, kind of... they push us in the halls and stuff so we get into more fights and things."
"You're getting into fights taking care of Joe?" Cathie asked, both touched and incredulous that this tiny little boy – a fair three inches shorter than Joe already – was throwing punches to look out for her son.
The loyalty this shows, it's just heart-wrenching. We've all been there, and this exchange just cements it without making it too obvious or overdone. It's handled very well.
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This little kid logic makes me smile and feel nostalgic and it's just so sweet and spot-on.
When Cathie Trohman's little boy ran out of kindergarten that day, trailing a tiny redheaded child with him, she thought that things in Winnetka might just be alright, after all.
I can just see tiny!Joe dragging tiny!Patrick around and it's adorable.
"Mommy, hith name ith Patwick," Joe informed her, thumping his action figure against her shoulder, as if she was actually embarrassing him.
"Well, hello, Patrick. Pleased to meet you." She held out a hand for him to shake, but he turned away and buried his face in his mother's shoulder, peeking back at her shyly.
"He's very timid," his mother acknowledged, patting his back and smiling. "He doesn't really make many friends."
"HE'TH MY FWIEND!" Joe yelled gleefully and Patrick immediately lifted his head and giggled.
The lisp slays me. And Patrick! With the face hiding! The cute. Seriously.
Joe looked at his little pink cupcake with the strawberry on top and thought for a minute. Then he picked it up and dropped it in Patrick's lunchbox with a grin. Patrick stared at it and then picked up the brown square of cake wrapped in plastic and dropped it in Joe's. Joe was a bit disappointed. It didn't look even nearly as exciting as his cupcake, but it tasted okay. Joe took a bite and gave it back. Patrick made him eat the other half of the cupcake.
Sharing sweets as a child is the biggest declaration of love imaginable. It's sweet, and you're giving me cavities, but, jeez, keep it coming. Also? I love that Joe's disappointed but still willing to share. So selfless.
"It's alright," Joe was saying knowledgeably. "Kisses always make it better."
Patrick giggled and cuddled the dog. Apparently, he wasn't such a useless friend after all.
I love this exchange so much. It's so real and so sweet (I am failing at finding other words. This is entirely your fault, just so you know. :} ) and I love that it's all better because Joe made it that way. This is definitely one of my favorite interactions.
At lunchtime he sat at the table and stared at his cupcake – blue, with star sprinkles – and didn't want to eat it if he couldn't give half to Patrick. He left the whole thing on the table and thought the birds might like it. Seeds and worms were probably boring after a while.
Your voices are wonderful, as usual. They're also age appropriate. Too often, people over simplify children, which is not how they are at all. You've really got the age-group down.
...which meant sitting next to Emma-May and she had freckles and Joe didn't want to catch them.
See above. Catching freckles. Oh, Joe. So sweet and childish and true to children.
When Joe was eight, though, Katie Greemore kissed him in the playground and Patrick hit her so hard she fell in the flower patch the first graders made and squashed all the flowers.
Jealous Patrick as an eight year old. This is just. Oh. I love this so much.
"People..." Patrick looked over at Joe and physically shifted nearer to him, protectively. "People say stuff. About the way Joe says things. There's this one mean kid called Wayne that threw a basketball in his face so I hit him and then his friends came and started a fight and it was everyone else against Joe and me but we kind of won anyway... but now Wayne and his friends, kind of... they push us in the halls and stuff so we get into more fights and things."
"You're getting into fights taking care of Joe?" Cathie asked, both touched and incredulous that this tiny little boy – a fair three inches shorter than Joe already – was throwing punches to look out for her son.
The loyalty this shows, it's just heart-wrenching. We've all been there, and this exchange just cements it without making it too obvious or overdone. It's handled very well.