Sitting in the car, waiting for an appointment. He has his hand on my shoulder and catches a glimpse of himself in the rear view mirror. His upper lip is stained orange from drinking Sunkist. "Take my picture in that mirror, Mama." And of course, I do. Grateful to have my camera with me from taking pictures earlier at the Thanksgiving feast at preschool. The feast where I watched my two boys sing about turkeys and caterpillars and Jesus. My middle boy on the front row singing his heart out. And him, my oldest, standing on the back row shyly mouthing the words. And now I look at his reflection, at those big brown eyes that I love so much. He's growing up before my eyes, no matter how much I beg him to stay just like this forever. My little boy is not so little anymore.
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