Yes, you.

That’s right.  You.

(Quit looking behind you, trying to see if there’s someone else back there to whom I’m obviously talking.)

(Ok.  So let’s be honest…maybe you’re not my favorite, but you’re in like, at least the top 10.)

(Maybe top 15.)

(You’re definitely no lower than #24 on my list.)

Anyway…I love how my kids say this.  Both of my “big” kids have their own unique way to say they love me.

Me: You’re my favorite free year old.  (My dislike for baby talk is trumped by my desire for alliteration.)
Lydia: You’re my favorite Mommy.  (I should hope so!  I’m kinda the only one ya got!)

Carter’s has changed a little as  he’s gotten older.  It used to be:

Me: You’re my favorite ___ year old.
Carter: You’re my favorite ten years old.  (I loved that he pluralized years.)

Now it’s:

Me: You’re my favorite four year old.
Carter:  You’re my favorite firty year old.  (He don’t care about alliteration, he just can’t say thirty.)

Firty, Thirty.  Ten.  Mommy.  I love it all.

And I’ll miss it when they don’t say this anymore.