"Who's my baby boy?" I ask my nine year old brother. He extravagently rolls his eyes, tries to hide a peeking smile, and says,"I know I know. I am."
He has dark brown hair. Freckles sprinkled across his nose. The longest eyelashes I have ever seen. Oversized teeth that are the result of much wiggling in hopes of a five dollar bill from the tooth fairy. He masters every sport he attempts, while still maintaining one of the highest averages in his third grade class. He spends most of his time playing outside with the neighborhood boys- in fact, he just came in the house at 9 o'clock p.m. for the first time today- grass stains and all. He has a habit of sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth while concentrating. He practices his piano for 15 minutes some days. He is the video gaming king. He is a mama's boy, and a spitting image of my dad. He claims he is old enough to watch PG-13 movies with his older sisters, while he asks my parents to reassure him every night that he won't have a single bad dream. He kisses the cheeks of every two year old girl he meets, even though he goes fishing and hunting with the boys. He reads his Bible and is a perfect Southern gentleman. He has a sharp mouth, but also has one of the sweetest souls of anyone I know.
He may be the "tough guy" to his buds, but he still makes time to snuggle with his mama...
and still be my baby boy.