Can we agree to forget this past week's crimes: toothbrushes, markers, bolts flushed down the toilet, broken cups, half a bottle of children's motrin drowned just for fun, fruit bars in the dryer, toys on the roof, pee on the floor, and all the rest that made me so angry I could cry, for the sake of how cute he looked in that little green sweater in the rain yesterday? A hand knit handmedown sewn by a friend's aunt for Arlo as an infant, passed down to each boy, until finally landing on these perfectly wild shoulders. Looking shockingly more snug than last year when seemed to swallow him whole.
Because, when we he does finally outgrow it, my heart will surely break.
