Henry's growing up so fast. At seven, the top of his head is just shy of my chin and his hands and feet are about an inch shorter than mine. I know that that's not much of a feat, considering my own size, but still. We were going out last week for a quick errand and Henry wanted to wear his flip flops from last year, but his heels hung over the backs. I told him to find another pair of shoes and he searched the shoe basket and unearthed an old pair of my flip flops. And they fit him. I let him wear them because I was in a hurry. The next day I bought him some new flip flops.
We're still waiting on him to lose a tooth. Apparently that can happen anywhere between six and eight. It seems funny because Henry's already hip to the non-existence of the tooth fairy, not to mention Santa Claus. But I told him whenever he finally loses a tooth I'll sneak in his room while he's sleeping and put something under his pillow. I won't lie to Henry when he wants to know the truth about things, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let him miss out on the fun stuff even if he knows it's just pretend.
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