Happy Birthday Maxwell! You celebrated in fine form today at our camping trip with the Hainsworths and Hughes. You were the star of the show with your big bright smile when we pulled out the cake that turned all of our lips blue and put us in a sugar coma. You were thrilled with the shaving cream fight that left you looking like a frosted chocolate cupcake. This is the big year when you are baptized and start the road to independence that nearly kills your mother. Plus, you get a pocketknife and a cub scout shirt, so it really is the best year yet. I love you my handsome black boy.
1 comment:
there is no way in hell i will ever give Oakley a pocket knife. Can you even imagine?
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