Will keeps surprising us every day with some new mental feat. Mimicry is an important part of his repertoire. Yesterday he repeated nearly every letter of the alphabet that I said. At the playground he's now trying the higher slides or the rope climb or some other dangerous apparatus just because he sees another (older) kid doing it. He also requests that I carry him out onto the veranda before his bath at night so that he can look at the Brisbane skyline. Last night he was thrilled when he could see lightning in the distant sky. This elicited an excited outpouring of conversation, of which I could only understand about 10%.
Each morning after I have changed his nappy, he grabs his blanket and then runs into my arms so that I can carry him downstairs. Although he's tall, he is on the slender side, so it's still easy to carry his 26 pounds (11.9 kilos). I do very much relish every moment that I can carry him. It is clear, however, that we can't stop him from growing. He has outgrown nearly every item of clothing that we brought with us to Australia over nine months ago. That got me to thinking about when the inevitable day will come when I will no longer be able to carry him around in my arms. In the picture above you can see me standing on the left, when I'm about four years old. My mother is on the right holding my brother Darron. There must have been a day when my mom or my dad carried me like that for the very last time. The next time they tried I was either too heavy or refused to be carried. I wonder whether I will recognize when it's the last time I can carry Will.