In last week’s mail, I got a graduation invitation from my oldest nephew. I might have cried a little.
Then this weekend, he went to his senior prom. Senior.
I’m just going to hope he doesn’t read this (who am I kidding?) while I dote on him for a bit.
I was in fourth grade, sitting in Mrs. Laster’s class when the secretary called over the intercom for me to get my things and come to the office. I could see our car out the classroom window, so I knew it was time to go to the hospital. All my friends made fun and called me Aunt Jemimah, but I didn’t care–I was excited. We got there, and I remember holding him before he had even had a bath or anything. My sister-in-law is a rock star, so she was up, walking around, and had her make up on. It was such a fun day for our family.
This kid is the first time I remember really learning how to love someone beyond myself (granted, I was only 10, but still). As he’s grown, he’s kept me in the loop. I get text messages in the middle of the night with that night’s kill or an invitation to come see it if we’re close. He takes time to acknowledge Baby Gray and let him climb all over his new truck–while he really has other places to be, I might add. He’s just a good kid.
He’s a great role model for his younger brother (who isn’t too far behind) and all the cousins anyone can imagine (my sister-in-law is one of ten, so they have a huge family). I’m so proud of him; I can’t believe it’s already time for him to go off to school! 
