Sunday night I dropped you off at the church nursery. During the flurry of making you a name tag, putting your bag up, handing you your juice, and making sure the door was locked you looked up at me with tears in your eyes. Your mouth was pouty. You reached up for me. You didn't want me to leave. If the trustworthy little lady didn't wisk you away about to feed you Bugles, I probably would've taken you with me. I love you little, Buddy. You will always be mine.
I love you,