Cute, sweet little James (and I pray he doesn't read this to know that I said that) has grown up into - well, not that he isn't cute and sweet any more, it's just ... different now. He used to say things like "Hey Thithy, wanna come play carth with me?" And now, just the other day he told me that "If anyone ever tries to hurt you they'll have to answer to me." He went from being head-and-shoulders shorter than me for most of our growing-up years to being a full head taller than me. I remember when he started kindergarten. Now he's getting ready to start EMT Basic. If it has wheels, he can drive it. If it can throw a bullet, he can shoot it. If it comes apart he can put it back together.
Granted, he still hates poetry (I've given up hope of breaking him of that) and he is a bit of a dunce when it comes to classic literature (he calls it 'li-torture') but I guess an EMT doesn't have much need for poetry.
And at the end of the day (please allow me a moment to wax sentimental here) I still love him to death and am proud as I can be to have a great guy like James as my brother.
Just in case you do read this, James: Happy Graduation!