Crosby

To Crosby, because his name rocks.
To the little man stuck in a nine year old body.
To the little boy that giggles and lights up a room (yes giggles).
To the little boy who bows his head so intently to bless his food.
To the little man that reminds me to be strong in my faith.
To the kid that calls my boyfriends by the wrong name, and thinks it’s hilarious.
To the big brother who shields from all things scary, painful and dark.
To my sisters first born. The one who made me an aunt.
To the grandson that has brought so much love, camo, rocks, and toy guns into a home were hair bows, dresses, and high heels had always been comfortable.
To the little boy never too embarrassed to offer a hug.
To the 8 year old who is already “a great catch”.
To the 8 year old wise enough to recognize the importance of visiting with the elderly.
To the 8 year old that touched my hand as I was clearing the table and said “you don’t have to do that, I’ll take care of it.”
To my nephew, the one that makes my pores exude joy.
Anxiously awaiting the arrival of a new niece. Baby number 6.

And. I. Cant. Wait.