Monday, October 17, 2011

Dear Son

You are purposely responsible for all the gray hair I hide beneath layers of color. You make me crazy when you argue that the cereal says "Crackle, Snap, Pop" instead of "Snap, Crackle, Pop." You make me want to scream (and if we weren't living in an apartment right now I probably would) when it is 9:42pm and you are still up fiddling with magnets even though you were put to bed at 9. You make my heart stop when I look out our second story window and see you in the tree outside. You make me so tired when I am repeating myself for the umpteenth time and you swear you never heard me.

In short, you are you and I wouldn't change that for anything in the whole world!

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