He has a tender heart.
He laughs and cries at the drop of a hat. His laughs are the deep kind, and his tears come because he's sensitive.
You will never see him standing in the center of a stage with a microphone in his hand. But when he sings in the car, he hits every note dead-on.
He's had a deep, raspy voice since he turned 18 months old.
He's always been a bit of a risk-taker. Like the time when he was just one year old. I couldn't find him anywhere...and finally I saw him standing in the middle of my kitchen table with his arm reached up to touch the chain that was hanging down from the fan.
He's been known to shake his booty. At the end of every movie, while the credits are rolling.
He loves to roll his r's, and his favorite word to say while doing that is "rampanada". I don't even know if that's a real word, or one he made up.
He's the kid that little kids gravitate towards. He is very loving and patient with them.
Animals love him.
He's been given an award for the characteristic trait of joy.
Kids love to sit by him in class and at the lunchroom table.
He is fiercely protective.
He wakes up grumpy at least 2 or 3 mornings every week.
He hates to read fiction (unless it's by Rick Riordan or Mike Lupica), but loves to read anything about the war or Alcatraz.
He loves music.
He loves to draw.
He loves to make animals and other cool things out of folded sheets of paper.
He loves to sleep in my bed when Todd isn't here.
He really loves when I sing him the song I would sing him to sleep with when he was a baby.
He's the one who can't stand the thought of me being by myself.
He loves coffee.
He loves food in general.
He's a movie buff.
He's also the only one at home with us right now, on this beautiful Saturday morning.
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