3-1/2 going on 40

Today you started preschool.
My little Bean, three, almost ready to turn four.
When did you loose all that fat I worked so hard to put onto your bones?
When did you learn the subtle art of sarcasm?
When oh, when, did you start feeling like a person I once knew- a small glimpse of the little me I remember.

You sat tonight at the kitchen bar and asked, over a bowl of spaghetti, that I tell you two things. One, a story of you when you were a baby, and two, a story of your daddy when he was three. Your love of the past and history astounds me. You moved on to your dessert of grape tomatoes- sat there eating them whole. Reminding me of your great grandmother, who used to eat tomatoes like apples. I told you not only of yourself as a baby, but of your great granny, daughter of a tomato farmer, who ate tomatoes like candy. You told me you wanted to be a gardner like your great great great grandfather. You mixed up gardener with farmer. Ironically, his name is actually Gardner. Your slip made me curious as to whether it was a slip at all- you old soul you, you little me re-incarnate. You are a marvelous mixture of all the best of your daddy and me and every wonderful person from our family that have touched our lives.

I love you my new preschooler....my un-little boy.