Another year swept by so quickly I’m not sure how I remembered to breathe. Yet again you are bigger, faster, smellier.
Some things haven’t changed. You are still the mercurial whirlwind you’ve always been. You’ve been doing amazingly well in your sporting endeavours this year. You beat a decade-held record for sprinting at your sports day, and won the long jump too. You love football and cricket and squash – anything that involves a ball basically. You won golfer of the year at your Saturday club. Immensely proud mother, who is very much looking forward to you applying these same efforts to your academic work…ahem.
I don’t really know how you’ll feel about me writing these letters, as you’re almost online yourself these days, or at least some of your classmates siblings are, so I won’t say anything too embarrassing. Except thank you, for driving me completely mental most days but making up for it by being utterly lovely, affectionate and kind. I’m very proud of you…most of the time.
Happy 9, beautiful boy. I love you millions.