Ok, so not the actual President Carter... We call my nephew, whose name is Carter, President Carter. Our President Carter rarely spoke for the first three years of his life because his older sister, Uncle Lily (Tom lovingly gave that nickname to Lily the first time she - as just an itty bitty toddler - called him Uncle Tom), talked for him. At three-and-a-half, however, President Carter has finally found his voice and it's incredible to hear the deep...and not so deep...thoughts that have been running through his wild and crazy little boy brain all these years.
Carter: Mommy, Daddy's Grandpa has blue. Mommy's Grandpa has brown. And Daddy has geen. (Note #1: geen = green. Note #2: Rather than call his grandparents by their names, Carter refers to them as "Daddy's Grandpa" and "Mommy's Grandpa", meaning his grandpa on his daddy's side and his grandpa on his mommy's side respectively.)
Sara: Yes, Grandpa Butch has blue eyes and Grandpa Paul has brown eyes. But no, Carter, Daddy doesn't have green eyes.
Carter: Yes, Daddy has geen!
Mama: Carter, Daddy does NOT have green eyes!
(They went back and forth in disagreement a couple of times.)
Carter (exasperated): NO, MAMA! Not eyes! Garbage cans!
Garbage cans. Daddy's Grandpa has a blue garbage can, Mommy's Grandpa has a brown garbage can, and Daddy has a green garbage can.
President Carter's observations are almost as good as my poem about parental deodorant.
A special thanks to these three men for taking time out of their busy weekends to pose with their garbage cans for me.