"...says the man playing with the three year old."
Little kids are easy. They know what to say.
"Who's the best Lego builder ever?"
"You are!"
They don't ask you what you are feeling.
"Play with me, Croaker."
They don't stare at you when your voice shifts from Yoda, to Patrick, to Mr. Crabs and back. They know the right lines to reply when you recite from cartoons and patiently indulge you even though you've done it a hundred times already-- because you think its funny.
"Are you done with your cereal?
"Yes."
Really?"
"Yes."
"Really, really?"
"Yes, yes!"
"Well'p that's good enough for me!"
If you pay attention to them. They are happy and you become the T-Rex, the Evil Jedi, the Lego Doctor or their co-conspirator in a plot to scare mommy.
Their grudges don't last long.
"I don't like you!"
"You don't like me?"
"I like you. I like you. Don't cry. Don't cry."
They trust you, can't wait to see you and cry when they leave you. Until that day when they are not little anymore-- yet you still seem to be.
