Dear Charlie Bucket,

We told the boys we were going to name you Charlie before bed one night. We had just finished reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory a couple of weeks before, but we were surprised when Owen asked "We're calling him Charlie, like Charlie Bucket?". And, the name stuck. You were known from that day forward as Charlie Bucket, or Bucket, for short.

Bucket, you're the boss. You decide when the rest of us wake up, when we eat breakfast, when we play, and when we watch Mickey Mouse Club House. You decide who puts you to bed and what song they must sing while tucking you in. The world revolves around Charlie. You are the sun, and the rest of us, planets.

You're quite the opportunist. You never let a moment pass you by. While I am off punishing the other two for doing something ridiculous, you're in the next room coloring the mirror, the desk and the ottoman and yourself with orange marker. It is amazing what damage you can cause in a matter of seconds!! When Owen was your age, I had an 11 month old Oliver (Who, at the time, I thought was a handful. Ha!  If I only knew!!!). The both of them together were never as much work as you are individually. How thankful I am that you came last.

But, oh, the love. The love you give is amazing. You say " I love you" un-prompted and it just melts my heart. Three little words and I have forgotten about pages 24-58 you decided to rip out of Water for Elephants. And, at the end of each day, you request that I put you to bed and sing you a song, and I love that time together. We sing Twinkle Twinkle, ABCs and You are My Sunshine. You know all the words, so we sing it together and I think to myself "Yes, you are definitely my sunshine!"