that Other Boy

My bedroom growing up was full of white wicker furniture. White wicker desk, armoire, night stand, mirror. I loved it. Some of it has gone by the wayside as Dave and I have married and moved around (the desk...it was never very practical. Wicker is a bumpy writing surface) but I have held on to the pieces I love. One of my favorites is the mirror. Right now it sits in our living room, on the floor, so Jed can watch that Other Boy and see what he's up to.

He loves his playmate. He cocks his head to get a different perspective on what that Other Boy might be doing. He crawls right up to him and bangs his forhead on the Other Boy's. He talks to him and sings to him and tries to give him toys. I don't really ever want him to find out that the Other Boy is just himself.

The mirror is constantly slimy and streaked with Jed kisses and tiny handprints. I never clean them off. Daily I look at Jed's hands and wonder how they are already so big, so I save those baby handprints for myself for later.