Three-alarm day.

I can't believe I forgot to post this. Today, my dear sweet husband, in honor of what he is referring to as "Mother's Day Week", took and picked up the boy from his little school so I could have the day to myself. When he picked up our son, he was immediately smothered in little boy kisses. Knowing something was up, he asked our son what he did to get in trouble. The teachers started to chuckle and told him that our dear sweet child pulled the fire alarm. And the firetrucks came. To find no fire. At the little school. Which is not only a little school but a very big church in our city. That we attend.

My husband has concluded that in the "nature versus nurture" debate that often comes up when talking about adoption, it is very apparent that "nurture" is going to win out in our family. My child may not be blood-related to us, but he is very much related to my husband in the fact that he has already inherited his ornery streak.

Our ornery boy JUST turned three. This is going to be a very looooooooong year indeed.