Samantha,

The next time I see you, you will be three. That thought crossed my mind as I kissed your sleeping head and rosy cheeks before I left the house to travel to Oregon. You will be three years old. How did that happen?
 

 
The next time I see you, will your chubby feet and toes be bigger? It would be impossible for them to be more delicious than they were when you were two, right? (more…)