There’s a boy in that picture.  Well, there’s a few of them, actually, but the one I’m talking about is wearing a green shirt that looks like it doesn’t quite fit him.  He looks like he might be either a few steps ahead, or a few steps behind the other kids on stage.  He looks like he’s damn near 6 feet tall.  The one standing aside the others because of an unfortunate background malfunction that only a few people caught.

He’s on the far right.

Yep.  That kid.

That’s my baby boy.  And I’m damn proud of him.

He’s had a tough road.  He was bullied to the point where he was coming home with bloody noses, and was a sicker shade of pale than I am most days.  We had to pull him out of the only school he knew about 18 months ago because of the bullying. He’s eleven years old now, and a full foot taller than his 6th grade teacher, and only an inch or two shorter than his Momma.  His voice has dropped a few octaves recently, he’s starting to grow facial hair (oh my JESUS the horror) and he’s still fighting a speech issue that made him damn near unintelligible up until the second grade.  He’s a little awkward, and he still wants everyone to like him.  The big difference now is that he doesn’t care as much when others may not be as fond of him as I am.

That boy… He rocked it tonight.

He even had a solo.

There are no words to describe how proud I am of you, Nicholas.