Dear Redford, Part 5

Lately, I’ve been walking you the two miles to the gym and letting you make friends with the CrossFitters while I work out, before walking you back home again. You love the CrossFitters. You kiss them and smile at them and wag wag wag the whole WOD so they know you’re proud of their efforts.

A lot of them will give you a scratch on the head or a belly-rub. You do your signature move. And then if they sit down on the ground next to you, you understand that they mean for you to sit in their laps. So you do.

Coach Phil always has a long conversation with you about how handsome you are and how it’s OK to lick wherever you can reach. It reminds me of that scene in Parenthood when Tod (Keanu Reeves) tells Helen (Diane Weist) that the conversation with her son went well: “I told him that’s what little dudes do.” I guess you could probably use a dad. I tell you all the time how handsome you are, but I never thought to tell you the part about the licking your junk.

Yesterday, you did the WOD with me. Part of it anyway. It started with running a mile and ended with running a mile. The stuff in between required opposable thumbs so you just sat outside looking cute. (Which you did Rx.) We did the first mile in under twelve minutes. The second took fifteen. You would’ve gone a lot faster except that (1) you were tethered to my slow ass and (2) you had to stop to poop twice.

You’re quite the athlete, little man.

Love,

Amy