Handsome. Handsome.

This is my son Lane. Sometimes, he looks so very much like his papa.

And sometimes, he looks so very much like his Pops. (My dad.)

I think he is very handsome. So does his papa. So does pretty much everyone else who loves him.

Lane and his papa have a little game they play called handsome, handsome. Papa came up with it.

The two stare at each other, or look at themselves in the mirror, and tell each other how handsome they are.

Lane will point to papa and say, "handsome," then point to himself and say, "handsome." Then papa does the same.

It is pretty pathetic. And cute.

A few weeks ago, we were enjoying a Saturday morning breakfast at Waffle House. Lane turned around in our booth and low and behold he saw a mirror. So, he started a game of handsome.

Our waitress thought it was hilarious. She started calling him handsome. Then she told all the other waitresses about the little boy who calls himself handsome. Soon, all the waitresses were swooning over my handsome son.

"Hey, handsome," they would call out from the other side of the room.

Lane would look their way and smile. I think he even blew some kisses. He has a way with the ladies.






That's my son for you.


Handsome.

And quite goofy as well.