I have always liked boys.
Ever since I was a little girl.
Which is a good thing since I am surrounded by them in my home.
1 small boy. 1 medium sized boy. 1 large boy. 1 man boy.
A lot of boys.
One thing I have learned over the last few years is that boys enjoy being rough.
Wrestling on the ground. Running fast. Spitting far.
Punching each other in the neck. Lifting heavy things. Throwing dirt clods.
Jumping off of high places.
Climbing large outcroppings of rock.
And it really doesn't matter how old they are.
Because in the heart of every man, there is a young boy standing at the ready,
longing for an adventure and a good rock to skip.
I know this to be true because this week on vacation we have been hanging out with
He fits right in.