How Oliver’s nose wrinkles when he’s chewing on his fingertips during a bath.
Obi and The Boy’s morning routine.
When Obi is kneady.
The way Oliver reaches his arms up over his head so I can pick him up by his armpits.
When The Boy is holding Obi, the brown kitten will headbutt his Boy’s nose.
The clever escalation of our wake up routine: calling, fuzzy toes up the nose, cold nose on the eyelids, then stomping when the breakfast bell goes off. Yes, it’s annoying, but you have to appreciate how well it works.
How much Oli and Obi love each other.
That The Boy will tuck Oliver in when he takes over the prewarmed chair.
Obi still plays like a kitten even though he’s seven years old.
That these three, soon to be four, boys are mine.