My Last Five Year Old.
I love five.
Otto Fox carries it so well.
From the proud wearing of his mismatched shoes
to his true affection for all bugs and tiny crawling creatures.
From his crusty band-aid residue-stained knee caps to his bright blue eyes.
I love the way he walks into a room and says,
“Hi Mom. I love you more than a hundred million thousand piles of dirt.”
I love the way he cheers for life and embraces the ordinary moments.
“Mom – can I have a peanut jelly sandwich?”
And when I say “yes” he fist pumps the air and shouts for happiness.
And he means it.
I love the way he plays with his little buddies.
I overheard this genuine word-for-word conversation recently between him and his pal Gresham.
Otto: Do you wish that you really could be a monkey?
Gresham: Yeah. I do.
Otto: Yeah. Me too.
You tell me – what’s not to love?
4 Comments
Lana
He is only your last five year old for now—grandchildren are so precious and fun too! You will love that too some day.
laceykeigley
You know – I will! That’s a good reminder! 🙂
Lana
And little grandsons are so much like their Daddy’s that you may see some of the things you love best again which is like a sweet gift from God.
laceykeigley
Oh – that is a lovely and hopeful thought.
Thank you!