My Son's Imitation of Me.

It seems like I'm always in the car with my son.  The other day I was taking him somewhere--could have been school, taekwondo, or tutoring, when he starts making fun of my driving.  He places his hands at two and four o'clock and cranes his neck like he's trying to see over his imaginary steering wheel--you know--like a short driver.

But his imitations of me don't end there. He likes to duplicate my walk with what can best be described as a penguin waddle.  And when he sees me getting a tense or angry look on my face, he flaps his arms like I do--similar to the robot in Lost in Space that said "Danger Will Robinson."

I can't help but laugh, which is much better than flapping my arms like a robot.

And at least my son hasn't made much fun of my weight--yet.