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By: Beth Pugh for The Good Men Project
Not-so-little feet stand in size eight sandals between us. Some would say your feet are little now. I remember when they were little. They have grown, just like your hands, your legs, your arms, your everything. No, your feet are big for a two-year-old.
A two year old?
Where did the time go between your first earthmoving cry and today, with you standing on your own accord between your father and me? It slipped away all too quickly, nonchalantly even. That is what time is supposed to do I guess. Its only job is to fall like sand in an hour glass. Yet, time didn’t fall, it plopped. And we went from newborn to two in a few short heartbeats, in far too few goodnight kisses, and even less good morning hugs. It went quietly, for had it been loud, I would have begged it to slow down. Alas, it sashayed away silently.
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