Wooly Headed: Seven is heaven

"Hey, MOM!!!!" someone hissed. I pried open an eye and peered at my younger son, who was bouncing excitedly on his toes next to my bed.

"Well, good morning," I croaked. "You're up early."

"Mom!!" he said, his voice rising. "Look at me! I'm so much TALLER than I was yesterday!" He indicated his new height with his hand, holding it a good 10 inches over his head. "And I'm faster ... I got in here so fast! And I can jump higher, too!" he said, demonstrating. "Isn't that great?!?"

"Don't wake up your sister," I shushed, glancing over at the crib. Thank heavens ... WB was still sleeping. I could send the boy back to his room until dawn broke and maybe get a few more minutes ...

"I won't, Mom," he promised, as he clambored into the bed beside me. (Ooof! said I, as his knee sank into my stomach.) "Never wake a sleeping baby, right? Hey, I'm taking up more room here, too, aren't I?"

"It sure feels like it, honey," I said. "Can you save a spot for me?" (B opened an eye, then quickly shut it again when he realized I'd seen him. Faker.)

"Oh, sure," he said. "It's just that, you know ... I'm bigger this morning.

Because now I'm seven."