Little Stinker

Yesterday, our first son turned one

He went to work with Dad

(yes, that is an Elmo clip-on tie)

Then we had two boys, and we went camping.

Yesterday, our boys had a first day of school

He caught a big fish,

went on vacation,

went to the beach

got his first elk.

Yesterday, he wore his first tux

shot a self portrait,

went on his first trip alone, and made a life-long friend

Took a goofy picture

took a Senior picture,

And then this young man who was a baby just yesterday,

Graduated high school.

How is this possible?

Isn't there some sort of rule that they're supposed to stay little forever?

And cuddle in your lap and ask for a story?

Something having to do with the time/space continuum?

The flux capacitor?

Peter Pan? Neverland?

Where's pixie dust when you need it?

And then,

the following week,

my baby called in the middle of the night

(2:00 AM)

and said,

"Put Dad on."

And we went to go get him, and this is what we saw:

That's his truck.

On its side.

That's the mailbox he hit.

See all those lights in the background?

That's about six cop cars.

There wasn't anything else going on.

But one of those friendly officers calculated that my son was driving about 9.7 mph,

when he veered up onto the curb while trying to swat away a moth.

#$%@ing moths.

He and his friend were fine, thank goodness.

He went to the neighbor's house the next day to fix the mailbox.

The mailbox is going to be OK.

The truck?

We're working on it...

Little stinker.

***