He smells just like sunshine, or at least what I think sunshine must smell like. We moved through our week of "Tiki camp" at the speed of light. He wanted me to cook with him, but changed his mind. We travelled to Mississippi and he rode, yes really, two horses. On one he even managed to ride bare-back! His Tiki was amazed as she watched with a lump in her throat. We swam; he ate catfish for the first time; we "muggled". We picked up his baby sister so that she could make brownies with us. She cracked eggs and "I stir" the batter. The museum held us in its grasp with the Fed Ex plane which he "flew" for me. He climbed the climby thing so high that I feared he might freeze there in the upper region and I'd have to get help to reach him. He swam down so deep at Patty's pool that he touched the drain. He stopped my heart many times during our week of "camp". Whether my heart stopped from fear for his safety or just the love I have for him, I don't know, but stop it did.
Leaving him, his sister and his mommy and daddy is about the hardest thing I do. We all cry and then I drive away. Two hundred miles later, I still cry, but know that Tiki camp can happen again, just not soon enough for Tiki.
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