I just can't even pretend I don't think my boy isn't one of the most beautiful things on this planet.
It's just really good we don't live in New York or LA or I'd be one of those crazy parents dragging my kid to auditions and trying to my best to pad his college fund and our retirement plan with his face.
I know I'm completely biased, but since I formed him from a microscopic egg, I think it's totally my prerogative.
I mean, come on. If he was selling something, you'd buy it right?
He's eight though. My biggest boy is eight.
And he's more than just a pretty face.
He's super smart,
And a little spacey.
He's blunt and realistic.
Yet tender and quiet.
When I played pretend with my sister as a child, the character I preferred to be was one with brown hair and blue eyes. I'd never met anyone like that before, but I always imagined it would look beautiful.
And now I know I was right.
1 comment:
That's my boy.
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