my wooly knight in sticky armour

(this costume was made upon request within half an hour, while Toini slept, so i had to use what i had and be quick about it, which is why it is a) way too big and b) green and wooly. the 'way too big' thing is actually good, because he can keep growing into it. the 'wooly green' thing is actually also good because it doubles up as a robin hood costume (when worn inside out), a peter pan costume (when worn with a belt), a yoda costume (when seen from behind), and a multitude of possible medieval monk costumes)

and here is, unrelatedly, a Toini story i have been meaning to write down for a while:

7:15 am. I have been in the shower for less than two minutes and the air on the other side of the curtain is still ice cold. Over the noise of the splattering water, i hear him in the hall. His thumping bare feet, uneven on the wooden floor. A miniature elephant, stumbling in the dark. A pause. Then the door of the bathroom creaks open. "Mama!" he croaks in his hoarse early morning voice. A reproach, a command, a question. All packed into two sleepy syllables. I peek at him around the corner of the shower curtain. He is standing there, swaying slightly on his feet, his little fists rubbing into his eyes and catching the wild strands of hair hanging in his face. After the darkness of the hall, the light is blinding him. He is still almost sleeping. "Mama!" he croaks again, "Ik hap ook boeven!" (i have breasts too!). I try the 'unphased' approach, silently grinning to myself: "Oh really? Do you want to show me?". Obediently, he drops both his hands and begins to pull up his wooly sweater. I can see his baby belly, taut and round, creamy silky soft, appear like a full moon over the uneven ridge of his diaper. Just above the navel, he stops, looking down, arching his back and craning his neck to see further. "Oh nee!", there is shock in his voice, now, urgency. "Weg is tie!! Weg is ie mijn boeven!" (Oh no! They are gone!! My breasts are gone!!!) . He looks up at me, through his curtain of hair, big eyes wide from interrupted sleep and shock. We must make quite a pair, he with his belly up in the air, and me hanging on to the shower curtain, with my old lilac bathcap on. "Pull it up higher, honey!", I suggest. The room is steamy now, and warm. He pulls his sweater up, just a little higher, and a little more, until at last his tiny nipples appear. "Aaah!", relief flooding us both, my heart is melting in my chest. "Daar is ie!! Daar is ie mijn boeven!" (there they are! there are my breasts!).

Now that story is from late december, only a few weeks ago, and yet it is already utterly out-dated. Toini has made such a tremendous jump in his verbal skills over those weeks that he is now far more likely to say things like "I was really sad and angry yesterday when i called you and you didn't come, and i had to go down by myself!". Sometimes, it goes so fast, it's scary. And i catch myself missing him already now. You know, pre-emptively, for when he leaves home...