You had a very important birthday this week, my little boy.
Four.
You're really loosing that chubby cheeked look fast. (Although don't worry, there's still a lot of chub!)
And yes, it's a cliche, but I'm sure just a moment ago you were an itsy-bitsy baby, arf-arf-arf-ing like a tiny seal pup as you dealt with the Great-Milk-Overload.
But here you are.
My little wild-boy. And just what I'd always dreamed of - a little boy who loves his bugs, (and platypuses) is always ready for a cuddle, a story, or a rollicking sing-along of Five Green Robots Sitting on the Wall. Who can scale the tallest tree, let alone the fridge to get to the contraband on top.
But let's be clear kiddo, no matter how old you get, or how big you get, no matter how cheeky your grin or how wise your eyes, you'll always be my little baby.
Four.
You're really loosing that chubby cheeked look fast. (Although don't worry, there's still a lot of chub!)
And yes, it's a cliche, but I'm sure just a moment ago you were an itsy-bitsy baby, arf-arf-arf-ing like a tiny seal pup as you dealt with the Great-Milk-Overload.
But here you are.
My little wild-boy. And just what I'd always dreamed of - a little boy who loves his bugs, (and platypuses) is always ready for a cuddle, a story, or a rollicking sing-along of Five Green Robots Sitting on the Wall. Who can scale the tallest tree, let alone the fridge to get to the contraband on top.
But let's be clear kiddo, no matter how old you get, or how big you get, no matter how cheeky your grin or how wise your eyes, you'll always be my little baby.
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