Posted by
Jilly3 on Jun 22, 2009 in
Boyz |
6 comments
(Devon fishing with his dad, trying on hats and smelling flowers with me while I babysat for him, reading the New Yorker with his mum)
I arrived exasperated and late as usual with Tucker clinging to my leg, to my nephew, Devon’s, eighth grade Panel Discussion. He was graduating and turning fourteen in a...