Life with Owen

Owen must have known I wasn’t in the most wonderful of moods Sunday morning as we got ready to head over to my mother’s house to pack up things.  So he shifted into this mysterious mode of his for which I don’t have a name.  Suggestions welcome.

Owen:  Mom, you look good.  You’re NOT big, I mean I would never, EVER call you big but I must say I think you look like you’ve lost a few lbs.  You look really great.

Me:  Uh, thank you Owen.

Owen:  You know, I know you’d still be beautiful if you got skinny but honestly I don’t think you should.  I think I like you just like this and I think you’re the most wonderful Mom that I could have.  And not just me, I think you’re the most wonderful Mom that ANY guy in the world could ever have.

Me: Thank you Owen.

Owen:  And I’m not kidding, I think you’ve lost a few pounds….not that I’d ever call you big,  oh nooooo (shaking his head the whole time) but I just think you look really good Mom.  You know what I mean?

Me:  I know what you mean Owen.

Owen:  I really mean it Mom (wide eyed and nodding).

Me:  I love you Owen.  Get in the car.

While we were at the house he reminded me that I had told him that he could have the oil painting of a ship that my grandmother had done for my father.  I took it off the wall and gave it to him. I  asked him where he was going to put it in his room.  He shook his head and said, “oh no, I want to put it on my bedroom door so everyone that goes down the hall will know that I REALLY loved Grandpa and I’m really proud of him.”

Well, o.k. Owen….  I mean, how can you argue with that?