Smit, hmm?

Well, if we are calling out things we are smitten with, or smit, as you dubbed it, this is mine. The kid, the boy, the monkey, the big M.
Why? Maybe because I was privileged enough to see him enter the world and take his first breath. Because he is the payback for the mothering, because he will likely never say " I hate you, Grandma." He will think I am all that because I get to be the fun one, finally. And because, there is nothing like seeing the next generation arrive, surprising you with the genetics that just won't gracefully disappear.