My main man

Whenever the opportunity arises, I like to talk about my KC. And when the opportunity doesn't arise, I like to make it. I think about him countless times in a day. I like to wonder what he's doing, then text my sister and ask for a photo of him at that exact second.

Skypeing him makes my day because he's so interactive. He asks me what I'm doing and where Brad is and where the cat is. We go back and forth smacking our faces and yelling "D'oh!" We make noises with our tongues. After 10 or 15 minutes of this, Shanna will try and get him to move so she can talk, and he'll growl at her that it's his chair and he's not done. Then we'll smack our faces a few more times. Then he'll tell me he misses me and on particularly vulnerable days, that I make him sad. Ugh. Such little words, such incredible force.

A lot of people I know are having kids. They've grown up and are making the leap from child, to parent. I'm sure one day down the line I'll decide it's what I want as well, but for the time being, the thought doesn't appeal to me. Mainly because I don't think any other child in the world could compare to KC. It's as though I don't want to share my heart. I feel that although I know there's enough love to go around, I don't want there to be. I feel like I'd be cheating on him. When the time comes, I joke I won't like his brother or sister as much as I like him. But the truth is, I'm not joking. I just don't think it's possible. I know I'll love them and they'll be very special to me and I would end my own life for theirs, but deep down inside I know KC will always be my favourite.