Four!

On Friday of last week, I was busy getting ready for work before I took you to school, and while I was drying my hair, you stormed in desperate to get my attention. A bit exasperated, I turned off the hairdryer ready to hear for the one thousandth time why you needed your winter boots for school rather than the pull-on tennis shoes I'd pleaded with you to wear, but instead, you said, "Mom! You gotta come now. I turned on the record player, and the song says, 'stand by me,' so you gotta come stand by me." Needless to say, we danced the next three minutes away, and I've never had a better start to a day. Normally, I have all the words - your dad may claim too many words some days; it's a gift and a curse of these Hepfner genes, and something about your early language and social skills tells me those same genes run strongly through your blood too, but when you find yourself without all the right words, as I find myself today, don't be afraid to borrow some from the wiser, wittier, and more well-written. Four years old is everything I wanted it to be and more. Your language, your mannerisms, your knowledge, and your body amaze me every dang day. I can't believe you're mine.

When the night has come
And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No I won't be afraid
Oh, I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry
No, I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

So darling, darling
Stand by me, oh stand by me
Oh stand now, stand by me, stand by me
Whenever you're in trouble won't you stand by me
Oh stand by me, won't you stand now, oh, stand
Stand by me.

 - Ben E. King

Always and forever, Charlie boy.