As Dan and I were putting Porter to bed tonight, Dan casually mentioned to P that he was going to finish up our taxes tonight. And because Porter now repeats everything we say, he said "tases?" And because Porter's favorite number is two and he can't say a sentence without it, he then said "two tases?" And you know, he was right. Dan said, "yep, two taxes, federal and state." Porter started giggling and couldn't stop as he tried his darnedest to pronounce federal. Then as I put him in his crib, he started to cry because he wanted to stay up and do taxes with daddy. I have been thinking that our little boy, who loves to fix things and would hammer Sherman's tail if we didn't stop him, might grow up to be a carpenter or engineer or builder of some kind. But now I'm thinking he might be an accountant like his Aunt Jen. You should have seen the big alligator tears when I told him taxes were boring. Carpenter or accountant or astronaut or teacher ... I just pray he wears pants to his first interview.