Today was such a good day. I never want to forget. 

You smiled most of the day. Your eyes sparkled. You joked, danced, sang, spun and jumped. You threw back your head and laughed hard. A lot. 
I loved watching. 

We made our lists of to dos, and wants. We did some school and ate breakfast a couple times. We snuggled our dogs in our chairs at the table. You played between studies. I cleaned and readied. 

I took you to gymnastics for open gym. I shopped while you played. When I picked you up we decided to go cosmic bowling. We had the greatest time at The Gutter. I felt like I was with an older you, a more-comfortable-in-his-skin you, more confident-in-his-stride you, a looser, funnier, more humorous you. 

I looked at your hands - halfway there, between child and man. The way you move them, how they curl... I thought about what things they might do one day. I watched your eyes - I still can't believe He gave me you. So much you will see, and discover, and find here. So much light and life in your dancing eyes. 

I loved how you did the robot for me in front of all those people - the people you referred to as "the public". I loved how you tackled me in the alley and didn't mind one bit what anyone thought of you laying on me, laughing - not even all those kids who were watching. 
I loved how you bowled seven pins and in the second half of your frame you missed the remaining three altogether, and so you stood, motionless, staring down the lane for what felt like forever. You made me laugh like, up until now, only my brother could. 
I loved when you said, "they call this an alley you know? We're in an alley... Only it's cleaner here." and you searched my face to see if it worked - if you made me laugh. I've never seen you do that before, try your own hand at comedy. 

You're so kind. You've always been so kind, but it's growing up with you. A bigger kindness. 

And you're neat. Always interesting. Always bringing something fresh and new to the table, into perspective. And it's always smart - like "why didn't I think of that" smart. 

And now, you're funny. You are SO funny, and I laughed so hard it was hard to forget you were my son and not just a friend I was out having a good time with.
How big you are getting. 

And your sweet. I love how sweet you are. Opening doors for me, slipping your hand into mine when we walk, asking me if I'm okay when I stub, or snag or shock myself. 

Thank you for today. 
I've never forgotten your every stage, and I'll forget you like this. 

I love you,