On Saturday, my eldest son, my floppy haired, bright eyed Oliver turned 5. I actually can't believe I'm typing this out-5, it sounds so, well grown up.
Some days I feel like I have a little Buddha in the making on my hands, a four year old son (4 and a 1/2 to be precise) seemingly wise beyond his years offering me kernels of wisdom only innocent children who so often so clearly see life as it is, can.