Well, it seems this blog's sole purpose is to communicate your growth to the fans (the fans being your grandma). 18 MONTHS!!! That's how many you are. Yesterday, I had to buy you a new pair of sandals (thank you, Kohls for still having sandals) because 1.) your feet have grown to such gigantic proportions we have Big Foot hunters camping outside our building and 2.) your old sandals smelled like road kill wrapped up in some bigger road kill that had been wedged in a locker next to a urinal in a boys' locker room for the last six months. Anyway, I was looking at these size 7 sandals and thinking, "my little baby has turned into a big boy." And as I was silently weeping, you jarred me back to the present by a squeal that indicated you were, in fact, tired of sitting in the same spot for more than 10 seconds and I needed to move, Jeeves. Oh, the things that have changed over the last two months.
I love watching you grow into a little man. And it cannot be said enough, but I love you more than I can say to you in a lifetime. Happy 18 months, Eli-eli-oh!