Yep, you - little guy with the tousled hair and permanent scabs on your knees.
Bring those big blue eyes - which explode with light and reveal the purity of your deepest thoughts - over here. Come here and wrap your wiry, long limbs around me. I need to nestle my nose into the nape of your neck and inhale the sweet unmistakable smell of you. Reverently stroke your skin, as soft as gently worn suede and with the impossible iridescence of a deep water pearl.
How did you get to be so big? Grow so strong? What happened to my tiny, 3lb cone-headed new-born - so fragile, yet already so resilient? There has always been a calm certainty about you, a sense that you already know, understand and appreciate far more about the world than I ever will. Guiding me as a mother each and every day. With love and patience, tolerance and generosity. Successfully taming my temper, provoking laughter, creating love, bringing me joy.
I am inspired by your thoughtfulness. Your inately caring nature. Your naturally tendency to share and be mindful of others. Are you sure you're my child?
You are magnificent, my gorgeous boy. Endlessly imaginative, forever intuitive, loving to a fault, playfully affectionate, independently resourceful.
You are my pride and joy.
Happy 6th Birthday Captain Underpants.
May you always want to run around in your underpants, towel secured safely around your neck as a cape, saving the world.
Yes, of course you can go back and play now. And sorry for squeezing you too tight and going a little overboard on the kisses - I know I have a tendency to do that. I just can't help it.
