The wild west has arrived in our house. Harrison usually comes down the stairs in the morning with boots on, guns holstered, and hat on.
His creativity is off the charts as he wrangles cattle, chases down outlaws, and gallops his stick horse down the side walk.
He walks proudly through the grocery store with his sheriff badge gleaming and tipping his hat with a nod at other shoppers.
Even though my bandana tied, vest wearing, and "howdy partner" little man is only four, I feel blessed to see glimpses of the man he is becoming.
His leadership skills, his protective instincts, his boldness, and bravery keep me proud and amazed. I feel so honored to be chosen to be this cowboy's momma as he keeps cattle hustlers and outlaws away from our homestead.
But we've still got some wild west skills to refine. I found him trying to wrangle Jefferson's legs with a lasso he created from his sweatshirt pull string so of course I wonder why he wants handcuffs so bad.
But for the most part he keeps his town clean and safe. Now to convince this handsome cowboy that his little brothers are not cattle nor are they on wanted posters :)