.. season’s greetings.
Well, he would say it if he could talk.
This delicious photo was taken yesterday by K, his erstwhile foster-mum. She brought a son with her; and they spent a happy 45 minutes or so playing with him and chatting with me. (I don’t think it was the other way ’round; but it was 24 hours ago.)
I believe he’s still small. I pray that he never gets bigger.
But on the other hand, what’s the point of praying ? If there’s a god of some sort s/he will know that I haven’t led an exemplary life; and the only other option is that there isn’t. So I don’t actually pray: I just .. hope. :)