He's still very small. I'm on the couch, horizontal, lying on my back, holding him above my head. My elbows are bending. I'm moving him up and down. We're playing, laughing. My mouth is open. Beau spits up. My mouth is suddenly full. It's breast milk - recently consumed and now regurgitated - but I'm not phased, believe it or not.
The day Beau was born: Kelsey woke me up early. It was still dark outside. Light from the bathroom poured into the bedroom. 'My water broke,' she said.
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