He used to fit

On my chest, as we called it “Papa Chest”, and I’d pat him to sleep.

Now he barely fits on a love seat! I’m prouder than ever, and while miss that warmth and weight on my chest and the rhythm of the “go to sleep beat” as I gently whumped him to slumberville, it’s still fun being his Papa.

Headed to Cotuit after dropping him off at the BayLines and scooping up a dingy at BOF en route back north tomorrow. It’ll be a long haul to Wesley, and likely the last time I leave the state for, oh, maybe a good while, fingers crossed…