It was well orchestrated. It was quick. It was one of the most adorable things I've ever seen. And it was the last preschool holiday program he'll ever be in.
Bittersweet.
Sometimes I think I cannot believe he is about to turn FIVE. That's a whole hand. That is SO old. Especially when I a picture like this.
Then I see pictures like this.
And I die.
A thousand deaths of holy cuteness. The preciousness oozing from that little face. Ohmygod.
He rocked out to Rudolph. He practiced diligently the entire week before. He did it while (he thought) no one was watching. He did it on the way to school in the car. He did it right before bed. He wanted to be ready for the crowds, to sing it just perfectly. And oh, he did.
I love the way he glanced proudly in to the church pews. Smiling though his bright little eyes. And then he waved. Not just to anyone, but to me. And he flashed his smile, dimples and all. Slid his tongue across his teeth. A Mason-trademark of excitement.
And I was reminded once again, just what a small little guy he is. He has come a long way since this time last year. He isn't painfully shy, but he occasionally tugged at the bottom of his shirt, like a little flashback to the coyness he's possessed all along.
That sweet, shy smile, that off beat performance, that little holiday carol. It's going down with Rudolph, in history.
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