Every year, my boy gets his summer legs...you know, the bruised-up, scratched-up, obviously-outside-a-lot kind of legs? Personally, I love them!
Before you report me to Family Protective Services, I'm not saying that I like that he gets beat up. I'm saying that I love what those tough legs stand for: lots of running around, climbing trees, riding bikes and scooters, playing basketball and golf...you get the picture!
I look forward to those summer legs every year because it means that, for a few months at least, I get to be with my boy through every bump and bruise.
I wouldn't trade a second!
Before you report me to Family Protective Services, I'm not saying that I like that he gets beat up. I'm saying that I love what those tough legs stand for: lots of running around, climbing trees, riding bikes and scooters, playing basketball and golf...you get the picture!
I look forward to those summer legs every year because it means that, for a few months at least, I get to be with my boy through every bump and bruise.
I wouldn't trade a second!
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