The Details

The Devil is in the details,

 

But there's an Angel in there too.

 

It's all the nuances and things I notice about you.  It's some of the latest favorite things.

 

Sayler, I love when you ask questions.  And you will cock your head to the side, let your eyes wander right while your head faces me and your eyebrows will furrow the way they do when you are legitimately curious.

 

And after you have received a satisfactory answer you will respond, simply,

 

"oh."

 

And it is sweet, and cute and your little voice can melt my heart.  You have me at "Oh".

 

And when you are being cheeky and mischievous your eyes will trail left while you smile wide. You know you are funny. You know you are sly and cunning.  And tonight as I sternly told you I would open your Skittles (aka "littles") only once we were well on our way home from grocery shopping you let me know, with smug satisfaction, "mommy, I did it a'self" while brightly holding the torn piece of candy wrapper that had been securely holding all those littles in place. 

 

You like to brag.

 

You like to let me know when you don't need my assistance.

 

And you are sure to point out when you have superseded my decisions.

 

And sometimes you like to pull all of the lace panties off a shelf while mommy is shopping for a very modest camisole in the unmentionables department.

 

And you might even run around with those lace panties and yell, quite loudly, "mommy, I got the panties".

 

And mommy will have to frantically try to put all the panties back where they belong while trying to decide whether to just throw all of the thongs, boy shorts, hipsters, v-string and hi-leg briefs into one bunch because sorting them just begs someone to come over and assume I work there and start asking me for panty recommendations.

 

You test me sometimes.

 

You get what you want more often than not.

 

You have your father so tightly wound around his finger, it's no wonder you often refer to him as "Lloyd" instead of "daddy".

 

But sometimes you call me by name, too.

 

"Cranbwia"

 

It's like a fruit-infused version of my actual name and I find it among the sweet variety of things you say.

 

You call your cousin, Charisma, "Christmas".

 

You sometimes refer to yourself in the 3rd person, "Seeler".

 

And you are so kind and generous with your kisses and hugs I sometimes take advantage and go in for more than I have earned or deserved, simply because they make me feel wonderful.

 

I adore you.

 

I really do.

Perhaps not in the moment you are tearing up a lingerie department but most definitely sometime thereafter.