from the mouths of... brothers (who are *not* babies any more)

When Tolliver returned from a week at raptor camp, he noticed Hank had lost another tooth, leaving two middle top and two middle bottom, with spaces all around - and said "Hank, you look just the muskrat we skinned and fed to the vultures."

Thinking about our upcoming trip, Hank wondered whether there'd be any elephants in Savannah. Just curious, he added as I sorted out what he must've been imagining.

Leaving Tucker at Justice Camp the first day, I overheard him ease into his role as a counselor for the littlest kids, speaking to one kindergartener who wasn't ready to head into the sanctuary with the group:

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me. It's normal to miss your grown up. We're going to have fun together this week!"

In the bath tub one evening, Hank asked Andy how many taste bugs an average human has on his tongue.

After winning the league championship, Tolliver corralled his baseball teammates and reminded them to remain calm, repeating "Guys, sportsmanship. Remember sportsmanship."

At the end of a really special week learning about racism and food deserts and immigration, Hank and two of his very best friends stood along Broad Street to promote climate justice, chanting: 

Clean the air

It's not fair

The birds are dying

They should be flying

Sometimes I feel excruciatingly aware of how the boys take up space, how they're behaving, how they exist. Thank goodness for the coaches and camp counselors who help them learn how to be on this planet, mindful of their words and actions, aware of the whole wide world. They won't always be be the best version of themselves, none of us are. 

Most of the time, from my own mouth seems a regular summer refrain: Take it outside, please.