Impressions from the day.

Some days I want you to stay a little boy forever.

Your sense of humor is developing. You wake up and smile, and reach for me, and blow loud raspberries on your mom’s stomach and arm. I wouldn’t trade you in bed with us in the morning for anything.

Touch the sky, say hi to Squirt, say hi to Toby, say hi to Squirt, say hi to Toby. Touch the sky, roll over, flip upside down, throw the ball, throw the ball, throw the ball. Start over again.

Your blond hair is getting long, some people think you need it cut. I like it just the way it is. In your eyes, down your neck, curly with sweat from sleeping, curly and wet from bathing, curly in the back because.

Little feet in little shoes. Little hands on a little football. Little hands on my arm. Little ears listening to reggae. Little head on dad’s chest. Little eyes closed to rest.

I watch you play, and laugh and smile. Being a father is so much more than I ever thought it would be. I think I’m good at it.

You won’t stay a little boy forever. I never want to forget you the way you are now. The way you were last month, the way you will be next year. I never want to forget.