You were 11 pounds, 3 ounces at birth.
You were the most comforting ball of weight sleeping on my chest.
You smiled early and often.
Except when you didn't. Which was also often.
You looked like this when you started walking, which was frightening.
You grew to idolize your sister, and even wanted to emulate her fashion sense at one point.
Eventually, you began to find yourself.
You like swords, karate, and you worship superheroes.
You have a knack for drawing, coloring, and building.
You wear those cowboy boots with just about anything.
Ice cream is your favorite.
When you eat chocolate, you look like Clark Gable.
You don't know how to take "no" for an answer. Never did.
You make me crazy one minute and proud the next, which I suspect is how I make you feel.
You are destined for greatness.
You are my son, and you are loved beyond words.
Today, you are five.