Last night as I was diligently preparing our Mardi Gras feast Tycen came up to me. "Mom? I know you're busy with dinner but my foot really hurts. Will you sit on the couch with me?"

Did I have at least 80 other things that needed to be done? Yes. Did I seriously consider telling him that? Yes. Did I sit and enjoy his company anyway and hopefully make his foot feel better with my mere existence? You bet.

After all, it seems like only yesterday that I wrote this post. He was barely two at the time and now he's fixin' to be seven.

ps- If you scroll up and read the other posts on that page you'll find a lovely photo of Dad. It never gets old...