Monday, February 20, 2012

We call him Skipper


When I think of "Skipper," I think of  either Barbie's cousin (sister?) or some preppy pedigreed twenty-something ne'er-do-well. I'm not thinking of either in this case.

Skipper, n.  -- one who skips

My sweet son Kyle exudes joy and energy. That exuberance can sometimes be a bit much for a parent or teacher to take. Lately, that glee has worked its way from his head and heart all the way down to his feet.

He skips everywhere -- across the living room to the stairs, from the parking lot into church, from one store to the other at the mall.

Skipping is the epitome of happiness. I don't know if he knows that, and I'm not even quite sure what he's so happy about, but I have to document this for posterity so that in 5 years when he's a quiet, sullen, withdrawn adolescent I'll be able to remember that it hasn't always been that way (and probably won't always be).

3 comments:

Kimberly/Foodie City Mom said...

That's so sweet. Here's to hoping that the sullen years just pass you by!

Carrie said...

He's growin' up!

Katrina @ Callapidder Days said...

Very sweet. I have a skipper too. And he hums while he's skipping, which I love. Can't believe how old Kyle looks in that picture!