Dear Ian,
Don't think I forgot about you. (And when did you get big enough to eat red vines and wear muscle shirts?) You and me and those puppy dog eyes are going to part-ay this summer. No shoes required. I'm not even going to mention your fondness for potty words or for throwing anything in a two foot radius when you get frustrated. It's going to be all hey nonny nonny and a cha cha cha. You'll be double fisting your two spoiling grandpas and splashing in the pool (probably with some sort of harness, floaties, helmet and both parents attached, but that is OK!). We'll read to your heart's content and play trucks until your 9pm bedtime. Oh, it's going to be crazy. There will be fireworks and s'mores and sailboats and fishing. I might even teach you how to use the potty. That's just the kind of mama I am. See you when the weather reaches above 60 degrees or when we land in Chicago, whichever comes first!
Mama
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