Will turned three today. When he woke up, he asked me, "Am I bigger now?"
Will loves Spider-Man, Superman, swords, and clubs. He hits and pesters his sisters. He chases them with sticks. He pees outside sometimes. His favorite word is poopie, and the mere repetition of it is enough to drive him to hysterics. He's all boy, yet sometimes he keeps his action figures in little pink bags with hearts on them. He shares a coffee with me each morning.
He has grown up.
Yesterday at Mass he reached the pew before me and, with no direction from me, did his best to honor our Lord by kneeling. He's seen me do this, of course, but I've never directed him to do so. His kneel ended up looking more like a brief squat (with bowed head), but for our Lord, I am sure, it was the most endearing gesticulation of the day. Perhaps the most genuine as well.
I love this boy, though, at times, I want to strap him. I want to be good and strong when I am with him, a man of steel.
Happy birthday, Will. Today you are bigger.