I'm so proud of my son. He's outside, barefoot, wandering around in the great world of our back yard. Every few minutes I hear a jubilant exclamation, "Whoah! Ahhhhhh!" or sometimes "Ball!" He stoops down, his diapered butt sticking out, to extract a blade of grass stuck between his little toes. He toddles over to the hedges and methodically tears every leaf off a branch. Then he climbs into the toy car, closing the door behind him, and Flintstones it backwards over the basketball court. And sensing that I'm straying from my web design work to blog about him, he makes a beeline to me, demanding "muuhh", whereupon it takes me 10 minutes to type this last sentence because he keeps rabbit-kicking my typing arm away as he nurses and stops to babble earnest fake words at me.
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