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Strange and smelly

September 29, 2013

Deep voice, armpit hair and laws knows what else plague me as my small formerly wee-little-chicken sprouts from babyly to manly. Bearing witness the whole 12 plus years should make it easy for me to remember the smallness, the wee little voice, the tiny little butt cheeks naked in the pond, curly headed dreadlocked sprite, bigger boy who could ride a bike and skin his knee and not cry for me.

Still with dreadlocked hair because he refuses to brush it, smarmy mouth, back talking, eye rolling fool that smells like stinky man with huge feet that are too big to wear my shoes who argues with EVERY SINGLE STINKING THING I SAY is not my little boy.

He is already going up to be belong to someone else, a group of friends, girls who will know his heart and see him naked. He already is making space in his heart for a woman whom he thinks is the most beautiful. Whom he will hug and kiss and tell jokes to. Someone to be nervous around, to tell his secrets to and change his sheets for.

Some person who will be bigger in his life than me. That is fine and good as long he will still sometimes hold my hand.

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