So Cal’s newest obsession is Monopoly. He loves Monopoly. Begs us to play it whenever we get a chance, which is…well, you’ve played Monopoly before, right? The game never ends, it’s like torture. But what can I say, Cal would rather play Monopoly than do basically anything else in life. Joe originally got the game as sort of a math skills activity (you know, adding, multiplying, making change and all that) so not only is Cal now relatively good at doing math in his head, but he’s also turned into some sort of mini-Donald Trump-type figure. He'll quote you properties and prices and strategies and talk about "mortgage value" until your eyes start crossing. He’ll even just play Monopoly by himself if no one will play with him, which is cute, if a little odd.
Mack is like the opposite of Cal. Where Cal is quiet and analytical, Mack is loud and demonstrative. He chases the dog so he can kiss her on the lips. He makes his dinosaurs fight and then make up. He climbs up and then jumps off of everything, which is why we’re recarpeting the bedrooms in the new house with a thicker carpet pad, and why we ended up deciding to buy a house with very few stairs. He’s affectionate and he’s sunny and if he doesn’t think you’re hugging him hard enough, he’ll say, “Squeeze! Squeeze more!”
But this is why it’s really impossible not to love Mack. I was putting him to bed a few nights ago (he was overtired and not in the best mood), and after turning off the light and walling him in with his cryptozoological gallery of stuffed animals, I hugged him and kissed him and said good night.
“Good night, Mama!” he squeaked. “I too happy!”
He’s too happy. And I wanted to tell him that there was no such thing as too happy, though, if there was, I was "too happy" right along with him. But instead of saying all that, instead of all the words, I just kissed him again, and hugged him tight tight tight, so tight he didn't even need to tell me to squeeze more.