Friday, October 11, 2013


Much like Layton finds a rock and makes it his prize, Layton is my prize. These hands dig for rocks and throw balls. These hands write letters to me. These hands fold up inside my hands.

The softness of his skin and smell of his sweet hair linger on me after I drop him off at school. When I close my eyes, I can almost feel him curled up in my lap. 

His personality and energy are intoxicating.

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I love this little boy.