That kid...

A year ago or more, I read this story and I think "huh, well, that's nice."

Now, after I have a little charming guy thrashing his legs in my lap, kicking me in my private parts every so often, I read the story and I feel tears welling up in my eyes and my lip starting to quiver.

Why? Because evey story about "some kid" becomes a story about Peter in my mind. A kid has leukemia? That's Peter. A kid likes a basketball player because of his number? That's Peter.

Did you read that story in the New York Times about the kid who was habitually bullied? That wasn't Peter. Cuz he's stronger than his daddy. And he can kick well. And his parents would have garrotted and vivisected anyone who would have tried to lay a finger on our boy. Cuz we fierce, yo.

So anyway, don't forget to vote for Peter on Monday...