3 Things that made Jamie's night

Tonight the kid woke up at 10 pm ready to PARTY. Apparently what I thought sad goodnight til morning was just s power nap, saving energy for:

1. Split Jerk

No joke. It's a crossfit move: Jump, lift up arms (or a barbell if you are doing it for real), land in a lunge. Don't think I get it of shy people do it, but I asked Porter about arm workouts and was showing me the move and Jamie just about lost it! He hasn't laughed much yet. Lots of smiling (and I mean lots), with a few mini giggles here and there. Usually if he's really getting a kick out of something he does that silent laugh where you don't breathe. It's cute, but unsettling (not unlike hid tendency for panting when he's excited and wheezing for fun). But man, a split squat thing and he was in stitches? Of course now I'm sure Jamie is destined for Crossfit competitions.

2. My baggy camo sleep shirt
Jamie's been doing this thing lately where he grabs something tight, holds it out and up, and ... Growls. Grunts? It's a bit like Tim the Toolman Taylor but longer, more animal-like, and the sentiment more reminiscent of man's celebration of making fire. It's primal joy, I guess. Tonight my shirt brought out the caveman, which was nice for the copious amounts of spit-up that followed the late night mania.

3. Porter's German accent
Let's get real, my husband has a mildly impressive repertoire of accents from around the world, varying in accuracy and his ability to stay in character without getting weird. His German guy is pretty great, and tonight probably prompted by Jamie's future as a Crossfit heckler. He's all Arnold a la Kindergarten Cop, which is my favorite Arnold, mostly because I've never seen the Terminator, I don't live in California, and I have a vague notion from checkout stand magazines that he cheated on Maria Shriver and fathered kid out of wedlock but he kept it a secret for years. Kind of like Caleb and the redhead girl in the OC.

Tangent! Jamie loved the accent. As do I, so we both had a good time tonight.

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