Will. Fourteen.

I’ve never been one to say it’s going way too fast. I’m usually on high gear, circling the county playing the familiar game of hurry up and wait.

Pause.

It’s going too fast, but I’m set on enjoying every moment.

It’s Will’s fourteenth birthday today. He’s my third of five sons . . . my fourth of eight kids.  I’ve always joked that he’s the most marriageable male in the state.  As an infant, I could never meet his needs on demand. He learned to be patient.  As a toddler he had scores of toys taken from him. He learned to share and not hold too tightly to anything.  As a boy he wore a ton of hand me downs. He learned to appreciate new clothing and shoes, and takes good care of his things.

Don’t get me wrong . . .he’s all boy, but he’s pure joy to me, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Birthday privilege in my home? Menu choice.  Will did not hesitate in choosing . . . not one iota,  and I’m going to document it  because one day we’ll both smile, looking back at who he was at  fourteen.

Hamburgers, sweet potato fries, Glory beans, ambrosia salad . . . and a Baugher’s egg custard pie as a birthday cake.

He topped it off watching the Wizards in the playoffs.  Sweet. Life.

He made the catch.  He busted his ankle.  He couldn’t walk for a week.  He has the photo in his room:)

First year playing basketball.  Risking failure, he tried something new.   He made the all star team, but the real gift was in the risk.

 

His birthday present.  Chris Davis.

 

 

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