Time to go home

Most days I think about you and can't wait to see you.  I love hearing about your day.  I ask you if you had fun.  The baby is usually still there and you're excited to do nice to him.  He plays peekaboo without realizing it's a game and you move his blanket back over his eyes. 

You're excited to see me.  You show me all your favorite toys.  You climb on the picnic table and try to stand up tall.  You are crazy to think you can get away with this at school.  We don't allow that behavior at home.

You're excited to come home, but you're not finished showing me the toys you play with.  I try to scoop you up, but you lean on my arm.  Your mouth is open and I feel your teeth dig into my arm.  OUCH!  You don't realize you bit me.  Your excitement conceals your actions.

I tell you: Time to go home! and we sit to put your sandals on.  You repeatedly talk to me about the baby.  How you played with the baby, and how you made the baby laugh. 

I scoop you up in my arms and we say bye... see ya!  We wave and close the door.