Bug

Today you are eight.

And I love you more each day. Which is strange, since you stole my entire heart the first time I held you.

I love your funny smiles.


I love your protectiveness of your little brother.


I love your indecision. Because it reminds me of myself.

I love the calics in your hair. The ones that cause anxiety for anyone cutting your hair.


I love how your hair gets blonder and your skin gets tanner all summer. That does not remind me of myself.

I love your creativity.

I love your blue eyes and your giant pupils.


I love your ears that stick out, just a little. A trait you get from my grandmother. One that I'm afraid you will hate later in life.


I love the gentleness in you. Your carefulness.


I love your go-with-the-flow attitude. It reminds me of your daddy.

I love the budding environmentalist and conservationist I see in you.


I love your freckles.


I love your long eye lashes.


I love the sponge for knowledge that you are. Your delight in learning. You just can't get enough.


I love that you're my son.