…was my due date with my first child, whose gender we did not know. I grew up with an adorable little brother (he’s still cute, fyi- and now he comes with a wife and daughter, which is a bonus), so I hoped for an adorable little boy to call my own. I would wait five more days before finding out that my wish had come true, in a beautiful boy who weighed a touch more than 7 lbs and had ridiculous, amazing amounts of dark hair; who screamed continuously for four months and looked just like his beloved papa Ronnie. He brings so much light and happiness to our house, and he has since the day he was born. This week, I’ll give you some Cameron stories, as he counts down the days to when he can get a learner’s permit.
Today, I’ll tell you the story of Cammy and the forklift. He loved construction equipment as a toddler- but he didn’t pronounce the word “forklift” quite properly– to great amusement of all. In perhaps his most famous example, he once announced excitedly to a roomful of adults, “There’s a fucklift by my house!! It likes to fuck things up! It’ll fuck you up, fuck me up, fuck up the house– it fucks everything up!!!”