Dedication to my parents...

                            

There is two people in my life that mean the world to me. The have been behind every movement, crawl, and step in my life. They witnessed the first cry, smile, giggle, and word.  The wished upon stars with me, sang little songs with me just to hear my voice, they prayed my good-night prayers, and always kissed me goodnight. They bought me books upon books to read at night; however, as I picked out my favorite book they would began reciting it from memory for the 100th time and read it like it was the first time. The enthusiasm behind every word would never get old, and I would again ask for it to be read one more time. As they tucked me in each and every night they were never forget to leave the hall light on, so I wouldn't get scared if I awoke in the night. They understood how painful every fall was on my boney knees and elbows and never were embarrassed to kiss my boo boo's in public. For every tear my tear ducts shed was filled with multiple kisses to help my little pain go away. There was never a year that would go by and my birthday was forgotten, each and everyone was celebrated with family and friends. They guided me through life and were behind every dream that was wished upon. They didn't care that I wore my red cowboy boots with pink shorts and a bright purple Barney top. What they understood was I wanted some independence and wanted to dress myself. Nor did they care that there was a little dirt on my clothes, skin, or shorts. They understood the importance of why I wanted to run around the yard without a shirt on because my best friend Tyler was doing it. They knew the simple things in life like some dirt on the knees, candy on the cheeks, or milk mustache on the upper lip wasn't going to make me a different person. They understood the importance of what a kid should experience in a lifetime.

As I grew up running around the yard topless wasn't an option anymore; however, those little things turned into playing football, hunting gophers, squirrels, and rabbits, fishing in the river, and riding horse. As my best friend Tyler and I would track mud up to the cement slab, take off our muddy boats, leave a disastrous mess, and knew we would be listening to a lecture on mud once again at lunchtime. Do you think we listened the first time? Nope, we turned around and did it again. Not because we disobeyed our lecture. Nope. But because we were kids, we loved every minute of being in the mud down at the river, catching frogs for fishing, shooting squirrels, and the thrill of racing each other to the cement slab for lunchtime. By the time we got to the cement slab we were to hungry to even remember the lecture we had just yesterday.

As the years grew on and there is no longer mud on the cement slabs from us, no longer mud boots in the garage, no longer our muddy fishing poles laying in the grass, or divots in the grass from tackling each other from football. The guns are hung on the wall, the BB's are put on the shelf, and the gopher traps are placed in a bucket on the garage floor. The years of childhood are over and the real life has begun and those two people in my life turn to three people that mean the world to me. Those three people are my amazing parents and my one and only brother Tyler.

Thanks Mom and Dad for an amazing childhood and all the pictures and memories you captured during those years.