Saturday, May 08, 2010
No Sprinkle Left Behind.
I remember a time.
A quieter time when the Boy would communicate his feelings telepathically or through a series of small, soft grunts.
This was also a time of immobility and dependence.
I could easily set Him down on any flat surface and there he would stay until I picked him up or a strong wind came along.
Those are special times in my mind, and they are gone forever.
Now he is a ball of energy.
Now he must run!
He only sits still for a well deserved cone, or a ride on a whale.
Or to admire a nice rack or two.
He is a man modeled after myself if I've ever seen one.