He's so not like me.
The first book he ever got was something about a kitten and the moon. We read that book so many times.
He went through a phase when he wanted to read "Goodnight Moon" every night before bed.
And now, we sneak into the living room, and see him reading, all on his very own, to his little sister. How is that even possible?
Please God, make time stop- even if only just for a season. I need to absorb every moment...
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