Connor rarely mentions our old house - except on Friday. Every Friday, he mentions to me at some point how our old house was better, how he liked it better, or actually starts sobbing because he claims to miss it so much. The thing he misses so much? Our tiny kitchen.
Today was the first Friday that I can recall since we moved in that Connor did not mention our old house. Instead, as we were driving to the Arboretum, I heard this from the back seat.
"Mommy, we should have bought a house with a bathroom outside. That way, we wouldn't have to take our shoes off every time we have to go inside to the use the bathroom."
"You are clearly your father's son. I'll bring up this important home improvement idea at the next committee meeting."