The Boy Loves His Mama

Hey, Mama. I just wanted to tell you that I think you are awesome. You are doing a pretty swell job with this whole raising me stuff. Really.



What's that? Am I angry about that whole dropping me on my noggin thing? No, no, no....that's all water under the bridge. You are doing super.

See these big, giant hands mama? Someday they are going to catch the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl, and when they do, I will turn to the camera and point those long fingers to God above and then to you and then to my heart. It will be classic.

What's that you say? Someone already did that one? Darn....I will think of something special between now and then. Just you wait, mama. It will be good.

Athough, thinking about the future kind of saddens me. I hate to think of moving away from you, mama. You do such a fine job of feeding me, cuddling me, wiping my bum. How will I ever survive without you?

What? I HAVE to be out of the house by the time I turn 29? But why, mama?
Who came up with this rule?
Man, I feel like I might need to spit up.

Next thing I know you are gonna tell me someday I will have to clean out my nose without the little magic boogie sucker. Scary.