I feel like Vizzini from The Princess Bride….muttering ‘inconceivable!’, but it’s not.
The boy was born in Holston Valley Hospital in Kingsport, Tennessee, thirteen years ago on Monday. He was the last child we were to have born to a father with hair. (It’s true – Zion’s only seen pictures.)
He likes to remind his siblings that he was, in many ways, a model baby. He slept when he was supposed to, ate when he was supposed to, and was pretty quiet.
The quiet thing came to an end in a ten day span at the 18 month mark, when a switch flipped. He has not quit talking since.
He’s no baby anymore. Within ten pounds of my weight, he stands several inches taller than me and is gaining on Jackson very, very quickly.
He’s also an amazing guy. He has a deep seated sense of justice and fights for the underdog every chance he gets. After watching “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas”, I found him sleeping on his floor because he felt it was unfair that other kids had no bed. This is a guy you want on your side when you’re back is against the wall.
Gray’s also ridiculously funny. Or at least I think so, but to be fair, we often blurt out the same oddball comment at the exact same time.
Grayson, I love you with all of my heart. You make me proud. I love how committed you are to what you think is right. I love how you adore your sisters. And I love how you’re growing into the lawn mowing job.
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