Meet Paul, the one-year-old.
He is my little pistol, forever running around looking for adventure. When his brothers and sisters go outside to play, he scoots out the door after them with amazing speed. He has learned to open the door from the kitchen to the garage, and feels free whenever his requests for outside time are denied.
During church he alternates between piercing yells and charming smiles aimed at all the ladies within swooning range. Today Paul's heart was captured by a six-year-old girl who happened to sit on the other side of our pew. Like many other men before him, I suspect he was lured in by the pink sequens on her dress. He walked up and gave her a hug, never taking his dazzled eyes off her. Then he lavished her with jewelry, which just happened to be my watch.
He's bigger now, but I still miss him when he's sleeping.