It’s the “firsts” that get me: first day of school, first tooth lost.
First bike mastered, first car, first date and who could forget the first dance?
I still go back to “Baby’s First Christmas.”
That broad cheeked boy doing the smoochin? He’s a Daddy singing the “bunny-bun” song to his little ones as they snuggle under the covers. That newborn? He’s 18 … ready to take on the world, or so he’d like to think.
It’s not the middles or the ends that get me.
It’s the firsts.