Oh, little man. We adore every inch of you. You are a sweet, loving, affectionate boy. You shower your mama with kisses and hugs from morning 'til night. You love to play with my hair. You always say, "Let me touch your hair." I admit that sometimes it annoys me. But I still love it that you love me so much.
You are the only one who has had my undivided attention for three years. Your older siblings only had me for two (or less) years before another baby came along.
You are my little sidekick. I can't leave the house for a second without you trailing me out the door. And, boy, do you love those chickens. Even though Little Birdie pecked your finger and it hurt, you still love her.
My favorite recent memory of you is when you climbed into bed with me one morning while I groggily tried to catch a few more winks. You put my face in your hands and said, "I wub you, my wub." (Which the entire world knows means, "I love you, my love.") And then you kissed me. It was such a great way to wake up.
And, even if your gift did not arrive, you did have a few gifts this morning. Daddy stopped at the store and bought you a sword and a car, just so you'd have something to open on your big day. And Jackson so lovingly gave you a penny (which he found at soccer practice yesterday) and two Hershey Kisses (because you love chocolate) in a little paper box.
And you were content with that. Even if you get no other gifts, you are happy with whatever you have. And any boy who is allowed to eat chocolate for breakfast is, indeed, a happy little boy.
Sawyer, we love you to death. We love your brown eyes and beach-blond hair. Even if it's a little shaggy right now, we love it. Happy birthday, my boy. I will love you throughout eternity.