A big orange baby was born. He had blonde fuzzy hair and cried constantly (for 11 months). He was sick, too, for so long. He had intestinal spasms, GERD, chicken pox, croup, and trips in an ambulance. I had to hold him constantly.
Today, that big orange baby is a skinny little fast 7-year old. He’s smart, he’s funny, and he’s cute (perhaps too much so for his own good).
And he’s still my baby.
Happy Birthday, Tater!