I’ve heard it said that

Boys are made of things like

Snails and puppy-dog tails,

But you, my boy, are made of

The twinkle of little stars,

Fluffy, powdery snowflakes,

Rays of sunshine and rumbles of thunder,

Directions to Sesame Street

With tickles, giggles, and grouches,

Clues from a blue dog,

And Spongebob’s square pants,

ABC’s and 1,2,3’s

Watercolors and crayons,

Construction paper and dull scissors,

Threads from Charlotte’s web,

Wood from a magic treehouse,

Stones from the sidewalk’s end,

Pages from a wimpy kid’s diary,

Tales of talking and singing vegetables,

Lightsabers and Jedi mind tricks,

The one ring that ruled them all,

A sail from a black pearl,

And a sonic screwdriver,

Cracked and dented drumsticks,

Lyrics from Greenday, U2, Muse,

And Katy Perry,

Scattered Legos and Megablocks,

Action figures tucked away with care

Or hidden under your bed,

Video game adventures with Persia’s prince,

A ratchet and a clank,

The halo and the covenant,

And hearts from many magical kingdoms,

A scraped up skateboard,

Worn out sneakers and rugged jeans,

And smelly or mismatched gym socks,

Silly booger or flatulence jokes,

Musical armpit farts,

Untimely loud belches,

And perfectly executed hugs and kisses.

All these things mixed with tender care,

Lessons of your short life experience,

Influences of longer life experiences,

And all of God’s mercy, grace and love.