Sometimes I look at him and see a little boy; a boy that is only six. There are other times, like today, I see a boy so much older than I remember. It’s scary to think how fast he is growing up. Way too fast. If I close my eyes, I remember the little toddler with snow white hair standing beside me chatting away in the grown up way he always has. I can recall, although I wish more vividly, the little phrases from left field coming out of his mouth; ’Byronisms’ as I used to term them. There was a time when he was not quite three and Lily was all of 4 days old. I was telling Byron that I needed to go and change Lily’s nappy. He asked why and I said because it is dirty. He responded with, “make sure you take the poo out of her belly button!“. It didn’t matter how many times we told him, he seemed to think that Lily’s umbilical cord was “poo“. A know it all back then and a know it all now; a know it all with some attitude and a serious affection for sport…
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