My boy is six.  We walked around an amusement park to celebrate his birthday yesterday, and I couldn’t stop staring at this boy of mine–his confident stride, the way he jumps on every curb, the sweet curves of his cheeks that let me see him as my baby.  Six.  I held his hand as much as I could, knowing that soon he may not let me.  Happy birthday, darlin’.

3 thoughts on “Six.

  1. Amy Proper


    There is hope Erica – boys have special bonds with their momma’s – Cole is 10 and still “allows” me to hold his hand!

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