Little Man, Buddy, Bubba, The Bubs. You’re turning three tomorrow. You always want to pedal pedal pedal, trying to keep up.
Now you can go fast. Fast like a racecar, Little Man. Pedal pedal pedal. Keep up, slow down. Keep your eyes on the road. Keep your ears perked. Wait for me, Little Man. I’m still folding your baby clothes.
1 thought on “Little Man”
yesterday my two-year old was a baby. Her hair grew a little, her stomach shrank a little, she went from calling me “da,” to calling me “neal” and then laughing hysterically…
It seems like every day that I put another pair of pants in our clothes box in the attic. Frankly, I miss my baby.
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