I look at you and watch you stare. It’s like you’re analyzing and investigating your environment, trying to absorb as much data as you can so that when you start talking your first word will also be your first question: Why?
I wonder who you’ll become as you grow and what things will have your interest. Will you be the little boy at the zoo who can tell the zookeeper the difference between a crocodile and an alligator?
You stare and stare and stare at the ceiling fan, watching the blades go around and around. Are you trying to figure out how to fly on it? Are you formulating a plan for the development of a special harness designed to hold you onto the blades as they spin around and around?
Will sofa cushions and blankets make secret forts for you to sleep in while you’re conducting special explorations in the living room?
Will I stumble upon a large collection of frogs residing in the bath tub? I can see it now; thirty minutes after I very calmly ask you to remove the frogs from the house, I’ll walk back into the bathroom and find five frogs still present. And when I ask you why the frogs are still there, you’ll stare up at me with those big blue eyes and say, “But Momma, those are toads.”
Will you be more interested in academics? Trapping snakes and studying turtles? Or will you play a sport. Daddy and I were never really into sports, ourselves, but I promise, whatever game you play, we’ll be in the bleachers, cheering you on every step, kick or slide.
If music is what you’re interested in, we’ll go to every concert.
If writing becomes you’re passion, we’ll read every story.
When it’s time to go to college, what will you study? Will you be a scientist? An anthropologist, archeologist or even a herpetologist?
I wonder what you see when you stare.
I wonder what and who you’ll be.
At this very moment I know two things with absolute certainty. No matter how old you get you’ll always be my baby boy. No matter what you do I’ll always be proud.