It’s official. The terrible twos commence today. Happy Birthday to my youngest swashbuckler, Castaway Conner. He came into this world three-weeks early while a teary-eyed Sgt Hook watched as mother and son met face to face (or face to breast) for the first time after so many months of hanging out together.
He’s changed so much since that day in June of 2001, and so have I. Today though, we no longer refer to Castaway Conner’s age in months, from here on out, his age will be counted in years (of course “halfs” will be used until his teens I’m sure). Much to the chagrin of the lovely and talented and downright sexy Mrs. Hook, he’s not a baby anymore. Happy Birthday son- I love you. Sgt Hook out.
Posted by Hook @ 0510 zulu | | Permalink
This post is filed under: Reconstructed
