You... my son... are pretty neat. This morning there is a fall chill in the air and we run out to the deck to greet the sunshine climbing over the mountain. Your father says "too cold! don't we have a hat for this kid?" I run get this ensemble we were gifted from I-don't-know-where. While we don't want you wearing commercialized characters it still works to keep you toasty this morning. You are all too happy to have little mittens, you think they are so fun! You run around squealing and showing them off. I catch your tiny little arm in my hand as you go running past me. Pull you back, catch you in my arms. Crisp morning smells, the scent of you, my heart wide open and undone.
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