When you are the 3rd boy, born within 4 years, there isn't much that belongs to you, and you alone. If your parents are practical, fairly frugal people, then hand-me-downs account for nearly everything you acquire. Well worn or outgrown by your bigger brothers, and set aside for you, to naturally inherit. Which is the reason pulling baby Rex's first "official" walking shoes from our mailbox yesterday felt like such a treat. Not only does he look completely handsome in his new leather sandals, but I know in years to come, when I run across them tossed in piles of the old, I will remember buckling his fat little feet and watching them run wild around the house. His. And his alone.
Labels: kids
