Watch Your Football

We have been putting Troy in his nursery for his naps since my mother-in-law came to town. We had been putting him in the guest room, but since she’s occupying that room, we had to find an alternative. I hung a blackout curtain up to make it darker, and I carry his bed upstairs from our bedroom every day. So far, it’s worked out great, and he seems to have acclimated to his new digs easily enough.

Today, he woke up after only an hour and a half, and I was upstairs playing my football game on the PS3. I met him at his door, and I asked if he had a nice nap. He replied, “Yes, I did. I’m good. Thank you.”

He started heading downstairs, and I followed to make sure he was okay. He stopped at the stairs, held up his hand at me, and he said, “It’s okay, dada. You can go back and watch football. I’m going to go downstairs. You don’t need to come with me. You can go back and watch your football.”

I started chuckling that he knew I was playing football and that he was graciously giving me permission to continue to do so. He’s such a sweet and funny boy.