Our house is overwhelmingly female. Putting in an appearance for the males are Jonathan and Monty. Jonathan knows that he is loved, I married him after all, but when I tell Monty he just looks at me and blinks. So although he can’t read or write, this is a love letter to Monty.

Flies are the best toys ever

I loath flies and now it’s almost summer they are too often nastily buzzing around our living room. You love flies, and leap and cavort around the room in a hilarious fashion in order to catch one. If you’re successful you crunch it up with great satisfaction. If the fly wins, you lick your inner thigh and pretend you never cared anyway.

I love how completely focused and in the moment you are on the chase, but how quickly you can give it all up – and not care – when the fly makes like Houdini and disappears.

Making sure we get to bed

When it’s time to go to bed you come in and make sure everything is in order. Sometimes this just involves lying on the carpet carefully watching bed-time preparations. Sometimes you like balled up socks to be thrown at you, whichIMG_0017 you then disembowel with an intent look on your face.

Other times you demand that I open up a drawer and you push yourself right down into the corner as if searching for something lost. Your favourite drawer is my scarf drawer, full of silk and wool and delicate fabrics. A short time later you emerge, a little embarrassed at your untoward passion in my intimate wear.

I love how you consider it your duty to make sure everything is going smoothly when we go to bed and how you might actually come up on the bed for a bit, just to pamper us, before heading out into the night where all the excitement lies.

Don’t be taking me for granted

Recently I came home from two days away and when I got to the door I called your name and I heard you speak, behind the door. When I opened the door you went out immediately and looked up the path into the night, as if whatever was there was far more interesting than me returning home. I called your name but you ignored me. Then, once you’d made it clear that you didn’t miss me at all, you came inside and allowed yourself to be hugged and kissed.

So I love how you remind me that your affection is not to be dallied with, and that my absence is duly noted.

Hand-feeding is not just for kingsIMG_0012

When I give you dinner you sometimes look at the food, then at me, then at the food again as if you cannot believe what I have served you up, then you just wait in the kitchen looking at me, waiting for something else. If I take some of the food in my fingers and hold it out you eat it from my fingers, and sometimes this will tempt you enough to continue to eat but other times it won’t.

I love how you don’t find hand-feeding humiliating but instead consider it to be the kind of one-on-one attention that you deserve. But it doesn’t always make you change your mind.

Kisses on the cheek

You’re so small it’s easy to pick you up, which I imagine is pretty annoying sometimes. Here you are, walking along minding your own business, when woosh, out of the blue, you’re up in the air. When we first got you, you would bite to show your displeasure, but the biting days are pretty much done to everyone’s relief. When I pick you up you lick my cheek and I can tell how pleased you are to see me by how many licks I get.

I love how you exfoliate one side of my face with your rough tongue. After you’re done I get the chance to kiss you and there is nothing so soft in the whole world. When you have been sleeping sometimes I can’t resist but interrupt you for a kiss because you smell like warm toast.IMG_0084

And finally – and I know this makes it six – I love how beautiful you are. You really are the most beautiful out of all of us, and of course, you know it.

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