The Son With The Smile

A close up portrait photograph of a young caucasian boy with a contagious smile, with very shallow depth of field.

If my two-year-old son Ashton could write this blog post, this is what he’d tell you:

most times, i smile. right now, i don’t wanna. i’m stuk here in my toddler bed, apparently, an’ the lights are owt and i’m soooo angry. an’ its all daddy’s fault. sorta.

there I was, sit in my hi chair chomping on some tri-tip. or i try to, ’cause daddy needs to lurn to make roast beast better. but there was owr doggie an’ he looked real hunger an’ so i tossed him pieces meat an’ he ate ’em write up, right up. daddy said “Ashton, we do not feed your food to Hunter”. i showed daddy. i throw my hole, big plate to hunter. hunter was happie an’ daddy was mad.

the very next thing, daddy picked me up and puts me strate to bad. “You know the rule, Ashton: you throw your plate on the ground and you go to bed.” No more food? NO MORE FOOD!? my sister kali an’ my brother liam got more food so i scream an’ yelled an’ kik. i also scream agin. bloody murder, whatever that is.

i no want badtime, so i got up an’ out of bad and open my dore. daddy put me bak to bad. i scream, and i got out of bad and open my dore. daddy put me back to bad. we did that lots. like 14 times, lots. it got old, so now i’m sat down on my bad telling you a story.

daddy made me mad. but i still like an’ love him. this family was not always myne, but i am theirs forever now. my mom and dad tell me lots how happy they is God brought me to this famly. i smile big when i hear it. i smile big a lot because i like, love, like to make you happy. make you laugh. i think i’m good for that.

i like also to eat. eat is my favrit thing. i always say “More food!” if i’m not eat, i plan my next meal. or my next food stealing. if i wayk up before mommy an’ daddy wayk up, i go to fridge for food like berries an’ salsa. maybe i’m part bear. i think i will be a profeshal food taker when i get big. or bear.

also, i like running. i running at gymnastik with daddy an’ we jump so much, down an’ up. i get real swet, so my curly, curly hair stick on my head real flat. i do no care. so i play more an’ laugh an’ fall an’ clime. i try running so much so daddy get real swet. i know if i am good at gymnastik, i get burrito food. i like salsa. oh an’ chips.

if i can no go to gymnastik, i like play with kali and liam so. i call it “wessling”. liam call it “wiggling”. kali call it “wrestling”. we wessle mostly until I swet an’ scream. everybody stop, and i smile. daddy say my smile is one of him favrit thing. that make me smile more. he take this foto when I smile more.

i am tucker out. so now i count evry pebbles in my fishy tank an’ stop being awake.

talk to God first. night night.

What makes the little lug in your life tick? Tell us in the comments below.


  • Annie Oswald 02-12-2016

    Loved loved this one! Good for you putting him back in his bed so many times. Sounds like you need to win with this one.
    Love to all

    • P.J. Oswald 02-12-2016

      Thanks for the encouragement. It feels like a battle each night, but I’m sure I needed to lose the same battle myself when I was small!

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