By the time you read this I will probably have long since stopped calling you “pumpkin butt” and “Clay baby.” Hahaha, right… You'll always be my Clay baby- the little man who made me a mom, taught me patience, and made me laugh more than I ever thought a baby could.
I sure hope that you still laugh as much as you do now and still enjoy giving your mom hugs. I hope you still eat everything and haven't turned into a picky eater. I hope you grow into a caring, respectful young man that any girl's parents would approve of. I hope you still make faces like this:
Hopefully you're a Steelers fan and have grown up loving sports like your mom and dad; although if Uncle Brian has anything to say about it, you'll be an outdoorsman.
I'm guessing you'll look a lot like your dad- complete with an already receding hairline but I'm pretty sure you'll be talkative like me. And as far as height goes- welcome to the hell of trying to find pants long enough that still fit your skinny waist. I really hope you still have those blue eyes and smile that make you such a lady magnet.
I haven't a clue as to what you'll grow up to be. Your Aunt Mika and I decided it would be pretty cool if you played pro football because we could supply ESPN with pictures from your first football photo shoot:
But really, I'd be a nervous wreck every Sunday during the season so please don't go that route.
Well, I'm going to close for now because I'm already getting a case of the “my baby is growing up so fast” tears but just know that no matters what, I will always love you and have your back, Clay baby.