punk rock gone boy.

not many people were privvy to his adorable cuteness. the puppy dog eyes (which he certainly perfected), the voice he used to ask me to buy him something, the slight turn up of the lips that he knew would make me bury my face in his neck.

mmhmm, punk rock and all that.

in the middle of movies, i'd catch him in the corner of my eye, face pointed toward me, eyes on the screen, lips puckered ... if i didn't notice in time, he made a little noise.

there were the great times when i asked him how much he loved me and he threw his arms wide, wiggling his fingers, and said, "this much." "that's a whole lotta love, mister." "yeah, well, i love you that much." also, he got a kick out of when i called him mister.

or when he was laying in bed and the covers were wrapped up all around him, tucked in around his neck ... not a speck of boy visible below his chin. he'd scream, "BEAN!!!" and i'd go into the bedroom. he'd grin with all teeth and say, "i'm just a head." it would send us both giggling.

he had this dance ... he held out his arms to his sides and have his hands in fists. then he'd starting rolling his hips around to some crazy rhythm, and he'd make the funniest face of triumph and mocking trying to keep a beat. between that and his gopher dance ... this boy was the cutest.

but as soon as we were in public, mr. cool. yeah, i gave him shit about that too. but he always held my hand under the table.

he loved kittens and when i would make my fingers into a little guy climbing mount boy and polar bears and when i would get my craving for pancakes.

yeah well ... he'd hate me saying this stuff. i just keep remembering the lovey stuff, and i figure ... every punk rock boy has a heart. i'm just glad he kept his for me.