Almost every night when I move the kitchen chairs to sweep the floor, Ezra hops up to start an adventure. "I'm on my boat, mom! I'm a Pirate!" he will say to me. He then spends the next few minutes yelling things in a gruff voice and pretending that a storm is rocking his ship back and forth.
These are the moments that I never want to end. Oh, how I love this boy.
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