The True Vyne

My Tator turned eleven yesterday. Buck wondered out loud if his birthmom may have been thinking of him. I paused to bless her again for the gift he is to our family.

Tator invited a whole slew of boys to the Cove, a lovely park with a nice swimmin' hole. Then the crowd came home with us for an overnight.

The boys stayed up late and got up early as any group of friends might to pack the most fun into a day. When I sleepily made my way to the kitchen this morning some were playing board games quietly and some were sharing comics on the couches, "Do you like this- when Calvin pretends to be rabid by foaming his mouth up with toothpaste?" and "My move. Spy disarms your bomb." I am amazed at the maturity of these young men. They all used to run around like screaming madman day and night, inside and out, but those times have faded and made way for a more civilized troop. They self limit their riots to the outdoors now.

Buck dug up a hilarious video from Tator's birthday seven years ago which only one of the bunch hadn't attended. Everyone laughed until we cried. The little ones have turned into mighty awesome young men. And talk about polite! How many boys between ten and fifteen nowadays speak in complete sentences let alone remember to include "Please" and "Thanks" to boot?

We are blessed to have these families in our lives. Blessed to call them friends.