Mirrors

It's no secret that my little man loves his own reflection.

Yes, that is my son, kissing his own reflection.  He started kissing himself long before he kissed anyone else.  And silly me, I encouraged his love of the mirror.  As an only child, and the only child amongst our group of friends, he doesn't get a whole lot of interaction with other children.  And the few that he does interact with on the rare occasion are a lot older - like ten to twelve years old.  And with our crazy-busy life (and my total fear of actually interacting with other moms), I just haven't figured out play dates or anything like that, yet.

So, I figured that playing with the Baby in the Mirror* was better than nothing.

Then, yesterday, as we were reading Pat the Bunny,** Miles stopped me on the mirror page.  If you've read that book even half as many times as we have, you know what I'm talking about.  Anyway, he grabbed the book, adjusted the mirror so he could see himself, and honest to God said:

"Hey, hasom"

That's right.  Hey, handsome.

I may have been wrong about that whole mirror thing. . .

*That sounds like a bad horror movie, doesn't it?  I think I may have found something worse than "Lady in the Water". :)

**Which is a whole other rant for another day.