I don’t want more babies. I know we’re done.
But wow… there’s something to be said about the youngest.
So if you see me in the Target checkout aisle and I allow him to throw an Avengers juice box and 6 unnecessary candy bars onto the belt, just smile and move on.
He’s my baby.
He has manners and knows how to be polite.
He’s too smart for his own good.
But no matter what, no matter when, no matter where, no matter how… whether he grows up or not…he will always be my baby.
So I’ll spoil him for just a little bit longer.
There’s something to be said about your youngest.
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This post originally appeared at Momming All the Boys, published with permission.
