This kid of mine seriously cracks me up.  I cannot believe some of the things that he comes up with. 

For example:

Our good friends, Ross, Tessa, and their almost-two year old daughter, Chloe, have been down to stay with us a few times since we moved to Idaho… and we usually see them once a month or so on our visits home.  Anyway, Henry just {double-heart} lovesChloe.  Their birthdays are almost exactly a year apart and we threw them a joint birthday party last August — I think that marked the beginning of Henry’s infatuation.

Just so you have a visual for the rest of the story, here is Chloe: chloe19

Every time they come to stay, Henry is love-struck yet again.  He sings her name for days after they leave in little made-up ditties:  “Chloe-Belle, CHLOE-Belle, Chloe-BELLE.”  It’s hilarious. 

(To make this story even funnier, I have to explain that Chloe is a very healthy little girl – adorably plump – with squishy, kissable cheeks just like Jojo had at that age…)

Anyway, a little while after their last visit, Peter and I were standing in the kitchen smoochin’ a bit and Henry walked in.  He stood there observing us for a moment and then pushed in between us saying, “Daddy, Daddy” — obviously wanting to ask Peter something important.  We stopped and looked down, and Peter answered him.  (*And this is where it gets sooo funny, mostly because of Henry’s tone.  I wish I could have recorded it because it’s not nearly as funny to type this story… just imagine a sing-songy, sort of curious, sort of mischievous, adorable voice:)

“Daddy, what does Chloe taste like????”  (with his face all scrunched up so cute and curious…)

Oh my —  what does a person say in response to that?  We both sorta stared at him for a blank second and then just busted up…  And then, as we were still getting control of ourselves, Henry changed his expression from quizzical to all-knowing.  And he announced with all the confidence in the world…

“I know!  Chloe tastes like a marshmallow!!!!!”

Ha, ha, HA!  Poor Chloe is going to take that one to her grave!  And now of course, since I have told the story to several people,  H actually refers to her as his “marshmallow friend.”  🙂   Chloe’s grandma told me that she thinks a nice, warm dinner roll might have been more accurate — but… Henry knows best.