You know when you were very young, and all you could think about was, "Wow! This is great. I wonder what's next!" I think I'm there.
I love this kid. I love the way his little voice sounds out our big, grownup words. I love the insane way he seems to hurtle through space as he runs. I love his prayers. Majesty and I figure the LORD must get a chuckle out of at least a few of them, because we sure do. We're both snorting and wheezing by the time he hits the amen. I love his trademark Squeezer Hugs. I love, as has been documented here ad nauseum, his rocking out on his guitar. He's not fooling around; three strings on it are just almost gone. I love the way he demands some form of berry after every single meal. I even love the way he gets tickled when we're just aaaaalmost asleep and we read that one line in the book that he finds - suddenly - absolutely hilarious. And he dies laughing. And I die laughing. And H.M.'s downstairs wondering what in the wide world of sports is going on up there. And I love the way that I am almost positively sure that I've had a small hand in creating something... someone far better than I.
And I wonder what's next.