Seven means about six and a half years of hearing Grant talk to me. About six years of finding ways to make me laugh every day, and about the same amount of time being obsessed with kitties. About five and half years of him giving me directions. About four years of hearing reports of his trouble-making at school. But seven years since I wanted to stuff him in mouth and eat him, and I really wish I could go back to then for just a little while. His fuzzy little (big) head was so warm and sweet. His love for snuggling has never stopped, although it certainly has expanded. This is the year he has already learned to ride a bike, read a chapter book, to grow his hair long in an attempt to look cool, and swim across the pool. SEVEN. My how the years go by so quickly.