Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Proud Father (Number 3)

As I have said in two previous posts, there comes a time when you see a child following your footsteps and exceeding your own abilities and you just have to yell "That's my boy!" (or girl or whatever). I had another instance this morning.

Like my son I have always hated being deceived. I'd spend hours trying to figure out magician's tricks (I'm on to you, Blackstone) and trying to prove to my parents they were the tooth fairy.

It seems my son has taken it one step further. My wife found this note under his pillow this morning.




Der
Dear, momy
I'm Bordfo
mony can
I Have som.
Sothing
else




That's my boy!

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