2 years, 6 months. That’s how old my boy is. And he looks like a little boy.
From the stink eye he gives me when he doesn’t want to leave the park
To his standard jeans and t-shirt uniform.
From his love of all things gadgets (like my coveted iPad)
To the disastrous messes he makes with orange soda (or “sodie” as he calls it).
He is my boy, my sweet Charlie. The little boy who is always asking questions, soothing me when I don’t feel good (he pats my face and says “Isssss ok, mama”). The child who dances around the living room with such ferocity when he hears “Rolling in the Deep” by Adele. Puts his hands up to say a prayer before dinner.
2 and half years. And melting my heart every step of the way.