The Last Day

Today is the very last day you will ever be three, Sweet Boy.
Because tomorrow...  tomorrow you will be four.  Four is so much older than three...  So much wiser.  So mature.  Today is your last day to wet your pants.  Your last chance to eat jellybeans behind the couch with your eyes closed, because you think if your eyes are closed and your head is turned, that I can't see you.  Today is the last day for shoving pennies in the disc drive of my laptop, the last day for chasing the dog with swords.  No more pulling all of the petals of the rose bushes for you.  No, four is much more sophisticated than that.  It's the last day for wetting your pants (I know I've mentioned that one before, but I really mean it) and proclaiming, I didn't do it, the potty did it.  Your last chance to sneak chocolate chips and deny it with chocolate all over your face.  Your last day to pull out all of the stuffing from a stuffed animal through a tiny hole, and then blame it on one of your brothers.  Live it up, my man.  Today is your last day of being three.

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