My Boy

and then you were 8.5 months, 

crawling/wriggling/swimming/swinging/rolling/scooting/basically, lightning mcqueening all over the place.

oy vey. 

and that smile. 

let's not even begin to think about how many times those pearly whites are gonna finagle extra snickerdoodles and get-out-of-lima bean-eating-jail-free cards. 

xoxo

{Bon Bon}