1! 1! 1!

1!  1!  1!

Yup, this blue-eyed-bandit has breathed fresh air for 365 days.

Strange to think that a year ago today I hardly knew him.

I remember laying in the hospital bed, 

in love with a little swirl of fuzz on his forehead.

I traced it again and again with my finger.

I searched for it today to find it gone, 

hidden behind a thatch of blonde, big boy locks.

Because time marches on.

Oh my Schmoopie, get that piece of coal out of your mouth!  

[Here in coal country, we utilize the local heat source.  

And although we swifter and sweep, 

Ezra seems to always find a piece on which to teeth.

Blech, I know.  But perhaps it's the source of his iron-rich blood!]