Those are the words that I whisper to my Mischief Maker nearly every day. And he is. He really is. His smile is contagious, his dimple reflected by my own. I can see that his innocence is fast wearing away at the edges. So I make the most of every precious minute. I indulge his exuberant fantasies. I make up stories about friendly mice and pretend there are dinosaurs hiding in the wardrobe.
You are my sunshine … he’ll never know how many grey days he’s made blue again. Another school year will be over by the end of June. Then the long summer days stretch before us, enticing us with new promises. Soon, it will be time for buckets and spades; sandy toes and sun-kissed skin.
You are my sunshine … probably, when he’s older, he’ll cringe when he reads this. And then, when he’s older yet, he will probably smile. With that cheeky dimple of his.
Ceramics from Caltagirone and Taormina, Sicily