Riece and I would both giggle at our our friend's young son, Isaiah as he would lavishly compliment each of us ladies who had shown up to help. Whenever I carried a box past Isaiah, he'd say, "Ms. Mel, you are so pretty!" By the afternoon, the compliment shifted, ever so slightly, to "Ms. Mel, someday you will be so pretty!" sending Riece and I into fits of laughter. Apparently sweat and I don't get along.
During our brief pizza break, two friends commented about how deep Riece's voice became in just a couple weeks. There was no cracking, wavering, squeaking, or squawking. It was with a sigh that I agreed, having noticed that morning that he was needing to shave again. And he was suddenly eye-level with me. He went from little boy to young man overnight, it seems.
