March 20, 2007 by info.

Last night I read Cole for the first time a book he got for his fourth birthday (which was March 10), Not a Box. When we were done, I asked him if he liked it.

“Yes,” he said. “It was funny and engaging.”

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January 30, 2007 by info.

Today when I came home from work, Cole was playing his 24/7 Power Ranger jibber jabber game. After freezing me with his laser beam, he told me he would give me energy on these conditions: “Please don’t worry and don’t give up.”

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January 25, 2007 by info.

We were walking down Ocean Drive the other day, Cole in his stroller, grandparents nearby. We’d stopped to look at a table of wares being peddled as part of the Art Deco Festival — vintage this and crafty that — and someone’s dog snapped at him. “Sorry, he never does that!” the owner apologized. Except, of course, just did. Denial.

Cole had been cranky all day: woke up on wrong side of bed, tired of sharing me with my parents, or just his talent at being an asshole. Bitchy cur didn’t help.

Then we ran into a local publicist with whom I’m friendly. It was her first time meeting Cole, whom of course she’d heard all about before. “Hi there!” she said, in sunny PR voice and her very stylish hat.

“Go away!” Cole retorted in surly toddler faux-hawk. (The ‘do makes the man.)

“Cole!” I said. “Sorry, he’s a little cranky today.”

“That’s okay. I understand. I’ll go away, Mr. Cole.”

Cole looks up at her. “Why are you still here?”

I don’t know where he learns these things. But all my colleagues at the Herald want him to teach them to ward off flacks.

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