On Saturday I took Paul to the grocery store and he was a really good and charming little boy despite it almost being naptime. I was relieved because he's one and a half and you never know which version of him you'll get sometimes. When I was nearly ready to go a bakery employee ran up to me and said "I just want you to know he is so cute. I saw him when you were walking by before."

"Well, thanks," I said. "That's nice of you."

"Can I give him a cookie?" she asked and I said sure and she ran back to the bakery. I thought she was going to give him one of those dinky little butter cookies that they make uninspiring trays out of but she gave him a full-sized chocolate chip cookie.

"Wow Paul, say thank you," I said. The thing with Paul is that he does not appreciate performing on command, so I didn't actually expect him to say anything, but he actually said "Thank you" in the super-cute way he does:

The lady mimicked her head exploding and then went back to work. I would be lying if I didn't say this all wasn't incredibly validating.

Anyway, the next day I was at my parents' house. I gave Paul a segment of graham cracker but he took too long to eat it and my parents' sheltie Looey just went and straight-up took it from Paul's hand. Paul sobbed. It was pretty funny.

The point is: I feel like these two incidents pretty much sums up life. Sometimes the cookie is given to you and other times it's taken away. And then you cry.