"Parker! Not too fast!"

Today we set the alarm early for before-school pancakes,

You gave us one of your special laughs, that one that you say from way down in your belly.

On the outside your smile, handsome but too grown up to think about,

Still resembles pictures of your first day - Fair Oaks Hospital.

Your pink toes and fingers then, now long and growing too fast,

Your pants growing too short; your appetite, too hungry.

Big boy and still our baby.

You have Mandarin tones, a balance point, a PR in the 100 free, books.

Teetering between confident and cool, we proudly watch you do right most of the time.

You are friend, sonny, gege. Giver, empathetic.

You gave us happiness each day of your 11 years so far,

And your smell, mostly boy; manhood lurks in the shadows, waiting.

Too soon!

To move you away from your home,

Everyday my head asks, did we do you right?

I'll tell them the best job I ever had was being here each day with you!

Checking your backpack through crumpled papers,

Reminding you to brush,

Put on your coat,

Wear Chapstick.

Please don't ride your bike too far 11 year old boy,

Tell me more about electricity and Aincient Greece,

Ask me more questions that I can only make up answers to,

Whistle - your whistle that I heard for the first time years ago -

A bloated-cheek huff and spit,

Then bug eyes when the first chirp squeezed out,

You did it!

You keep doing it!

Just please don't do it too fast.

Dug a Hole