Noah has found the sky.
Last night, on our way home, I heard Noah in the backseat saying, "Whoa! Mommy, ky! ky!" I glanced in the rearview mirror and saw he was pointing out the window, up toward the sky.
"It IS beautiful!" I said, looking at the horizon. The sun was beginning to set behind the mountain, and it cast a pink-and-purple tinge across the sky. The fluffy clouds, lilac and cotton candy dotted with white, were almost glowing. "Look at those beautiful clouds!"
"Whoa!" he said again. "Mom, whoa! Ky!"
Even Sam chimed in on the momentous occasion. "Mom, he's talking about the sky! Good job, buddy!"
This morning, as we were headed to the sitter's, he pointed it out again: "Mom, ky! Bwoo ky."
He was right: It was a baby-blue sky, with stringy white clouds wafting across it.
Not even 2 yet, and my son's already an aesthete. I love it.
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