You know who has been MIA on this blog for far too long?
Poor old Will, that's who.
So, just because I love him, here are some of the highlights of late from the life of my littlest boy.
My littlest boy is now on the very edge of being taller than his father. Dan is not yet ready to concede, but probably by tomorrow morning, he will have no choice but to admit that he finally has a son who has conquered him in height.
Will went with me to the Mummies exhibit in Salt Lake. I wanted to go so bad, but tickets were pricey and I couldn't afford to take everybody. So I picked Will because I knew he would be the least likely of all my kids to get bored. And we had a great time, both of us overwhelmed by the skills and artistic talents of people who lived thousands and thousands of years ago.
Even though nobody made much of it, Will "graduated" from junior high this year. There was no recognition from the school, but nevertheless, he is off to high school. Crazy.
He is no hurry to get his learner's permit.
He wants a job. That's good, because he is going to need one to pay those high insurance bills, if he ever starts driving.
He is funny. So funny. In an off the wall, make-you-think kind of way. He wants to be an animator, and I'm thinking political cartoonist might be in his future. He is a creative artist, and comes up with some wildly original ideas that always make me laugh and think.
He is thoughtful, especially when he thinks nobody is looking. I predicted the other day that he will someday be a wealthy bishop with seven kids. I'm not sure that he liked my prediction very much, but I meant it only as a compliment. He is made of good stuff, a man among already.
He has been a trooper through the rough times lately. He doesn't complain, he is mostly cheerful and tries to cheer everybody else up too, especially me. He always has a joke and a smile.
And, I will even forgive him for wanting to go to BYU. He says it's only because they have a good art program, so I guess I can live with that.
I love that kid. I really do.
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