My daughter never knows when anyones birthday is. Even though she is in college. If you ask she still cannot tell you when my birthday is. It's just how she is. 

So I was slightly shocked when my son sitting in his car seat said that he wanted to buy Auntie Torie's birthday present. I didn't realize that he was picking up snippets of conversation and paying attention. I didn't realize he would care about it. He was adamant though. He had to be the one to do it.

I am ok with the fact the the first woman he wants to buy a present for is his Auntie Torie. A little jealous it is not his momma.

I should tell you that Auntie Torie is the one who gave him his pirate rain slicker so he could jump in puddles in fashion. Auntie Torie has bought half his library and allowed us to learn wonderful things about hermaphrodite worms and galaxies far far away. She has scolded me when she thinks I am being to tough on him and constantly sending me more information on books, preschools, nutrition and any other area that might better his life.

She also gave him his best friend. His blankie. The soft beautiful open blue blanket that was knitted with an open weave so he could breathe when it is over his head as he is being a ghost popping out from around corners. That was knitted to be just the right length to sleep with and carry around. That was knitted with durable, washable, yet the softest of yarns because she knew it would go through a lot of puddles and leaves yet also be sleeping wrapped around my son every night. That somehow it would become the physical manifestation of an imaginary friend who would have a big personality and need pancakes as well. Who was knitted with love. 

This is why I don't mind that Auntie Torie is the first person he wants to buy a present for.

He sat there. The most serious look on his face. After five minutes of my daughter and I waiting he spoke. 

"Something beautiful. A building or a monster. You give something beautiful when you love someone."

So we found a building and a monster for Auntie Torie, but what he said stuck with me. These were the things a 3 year old boy found beautiful and it was important that Auntie Torie knew that he loved her. May heart grew three sizes thinking about it. That there might be hope for my small mutant child.

The moral of the story is buildings and monsters make the best presents.

Blankie