Cowboy

My daddy bought these boots about 17 years ago when Richard and I first moved to Dallas. You know....Texas.....cowboys......boots. I think he bought them in Ft. Worth. Maybe Dallas. I can't remember, but we'll say Ft. Worth cause its more the cowboy town. He gave them to Cason as soon as they fit him and now they fit Cole. Max just can't wait for his brief moment of papa's boots fitting him, so he's trying them out already. This cowboy is ready for whatever comes his way. He's tough, but still needs his momma too.

About three times a day, he takes a break from his "doings" and says "hold me like a baby". I know that sounds pitiful, but really it's not. He doesn't say it in a little whimpy voice if that's what you're imagining. Oh, no. It's a command. A cowboy command. I have no choice. Not that I'd want it any other way. We usually rock on the front porch for a minute. I forgive him for all he's done since the last time he commanded me to hold him like a baby and think about how he probably won't be asking much longer. I love being his momma!!!