When you were a baby,
I used to love the feeling of your whole hand
barely grasping my one finger.
Mom and I used to lean over you and envelop you with our hair.
I don’t know that you’ve laughed like that since then.
I miss my baby brother.
I miss yelling at you,
I miss the way you used to cry when you spilled water.
You were always a little younger than you thought.
I wish you’d let yourself be the kid you are.
There’s a lot of scary stuff out there, Stooch.
And they’ll catch up to you, no matter
how fast your track-stud legs will take you.
I (crazy) love you.
Baby boy, you drive me insane.