While he slept, I'd marvel at the sweet jet black curls that swept across his temples and his strong little leg muscles. He was my superbaby, laying out in his onesie like he was coasting through a cloud on a mission. I'd try to slip my pinky into his tiny balled up fists, but it would always wake him, and his eyes would spread wide with surprise. It tickled me so much, I spent days trying to capture his exact expression in his own comic portrait.
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