For the past year, food of some sort has been a permanent appendage to Deo’s hand. Sometimes both hands at once. At first, I teased that he was going to get fat, but then he shot upward—six full inches since last summer. Now I have to look up at him, not the other way around. This amuses him. I don’t really care as long as he doesn’t call me “Short Stuff.
-Rysa Walker
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