bra-dah

Every morning when C brings L.A. into our room to have his milk snuggling in bed with the rest of us, he sees P2 and lets out a high pitched squeal, stretches his arm out and says in an excited little voice “bra-dah, bra-dah”.  Given that his vocabulary is limited to about 10 words at the moment – many of them being animal sounds, and the rest mainly only ones his father and I can understand – I think it’s pretty dang cute he’s made such an effort to learn “brother”.  Sure, sometimes it sounds like “baba”, and other times he acts so excited only to get close to P2 and try to give him a whap, but for the most part, I think the little one is growing on him.  

I’ve been trying for the past two weeks to get a picture of them together, but the truth is, getting a picture at all of L.A. these days is a challenge.  As soon as he sees my camera the big black torture device, he runs the other way or does everything in his power to avoid eye contact.  Every time I ask him if he wants to take a picture with his baby brother, he shakes his head vigorously.  Last night when we got home from picking him up from daycare, he was exhausted… too exhausted from playing all day to run the other way, so I saw my opportunity and siezed it.  

I quickly grabbed my camera, plunked a sleeping P2 into L.A.’s lap and snapped away with arm outstretched  in case I needed to catch the baby.  L.A. sat there cracking up the entire time.  Apparently letting him hold his baby brother is quite hilarious… or maybe he was actually laughing at me that I was taking the chance.  Either way… here they are.  The height of photographic imperfection, and I love it.  My two boys… bra-dahs.