Where did he go?
Where could he be?
Is he under this shoe? Nope.
Is he in Parker's hair? Nope.
Is he in the hat? Nope.
There he is!
There is Rufus!
Again!
More again!
More please!
And that is the running commentary of my days right now. My sister made up this game, "Where's Rufus" with Jack about a month ago, and it has just exploded in popularity. I know I should delight in the game, because Jack's eyes just light up when you play along. He totally gets into it, going from room to room, picking up objects and asking over and over and over again if Rufus is in/on/under it. And his vocabulary has grown so much, too, as evidenced by how many places we now have to look for Rufus. I know I should delight in all of this, but I really don't. I can barely grin and bear it through one game now. It is just so repetitive. Albeit, so is most of my life right now, but I just have a hard time with these toddler games. The reading the same bloody book over and over again (and always the wordy ones. It is like he is trying to torture me). Always wanting to go outside when the dogs do. Wanting to watch Sesame Street or Pooh. And now, "Where's Rufus". *sigh*. Someday this will all be over, and I will miss this game. Right?
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