I asked Ethan to write about his Thanksgiving in his journal today. Sometimes I worry that he'll never know how to write in complete sentences, but for now, I'm not cramping his muse.
Nine years of mine.
Anna, Rose, Bella, Mom, Dad;
Gran, Pa, Gramma, Pappy, Grangran, Eloise,
the past ones, the others.
The turkey steaming,
stuffing with gravy on top.
He went on to write similar pieces on other holidays. I think he may have a future with Hallmark.