For the last (almost) 5 years, I've watched with awe as a tiny, frail human life, born on a snowy day in December 2005, has slowly grown into himself; a lively, quirky, brilliant and funny young man. He has so much to say about his surroundings and his daily life experiences. His wit and charm know no bounds, he is quick to observe the minute details of his environment. He isn't just smart. He's terrifyingly intelligent. He's handsome beyond measure - the girls already swoon in pre-school. In all of his gloriousness, he's also heartbreakingly clumsy with bruises to match and excruciatingly honest in his observations of his widening world. He's nearly oblivious to the plight of others, selectively hearing and not hearing, seeing and not seeing, as necessary to meet his whims and pursue his purpose. He's my son. He's The Boy (tm).
And he's me all over again.