Give me your highly conditional love.

Where have you been, Alice? Well, I've been right here, dealing with a love-sick psychotic!

Henry's school has been on winter break this week. Because four-year-olds need a break from all that fingerpainting and storytime. (Yeah, I know, the teachers need a break, what-ever.) It's been fun, because my kid, frankly, is a lot of fun, but also? He's kind of nuts. Yesterday he wept because he loves me "and it's just so good." A few minutes later, when I suggested that he put on his socks, he informed me that he was going to "slice [my] head off." When I suggested that perhaps that wasn't the best turn of phrase, he clutched my legs and swore that he was saying it to himself, as a funny little joke. Then he told me he would love me even after he was dead dead dead. Could he have a cookie? No? Then he didn't even like me and never would.

When he got over that bit of heartbreak, he sang me this song:

I love love you so much

I just can't handle it

Behold Mommy! You're the best one ever!

[whispering] but I wish you were a better one

P.S.: Wonderland today! Go see!