Dear Christopher Riley Fisher, aka "POOT".
I didn't give you that name, your Momma did. In fact, she called me from the hospital the day she brought you home and said "Daddy I decided to call him "Poot" because that's all he does."
I told her she should be careful because a name like that could stick. Well, you turn one year old in a couple days, and the name has stuck. She has tried calling you a variety of other names, and when shes around other folks she will call you Chris, or Christopher. Sometimes when you are digging in the dogs food or water bowl she will call you Christopher Riley Fisher--she does that to impress your Grandma and I that she can show "Tuff Love" when she needs to. Truth is she is a cream puff when it comes to her Pootie. She adores you and you adore her back. She is a good mom, too (Grandma said so). You two are quite a pair. But you're the POOT. I apologize for any trouble this will cause you in later years.
I didn't give you that name, your Momma did. In fact, she called me from the hospital the day she brought you home and said "Daddy I decided to call him "Poot" because that's all he does."
I told her she should be careful because a name like that could stick. Well, you turn one year old in a couple days, and the name has stuck. She has tried calling you a variety of other names, and when shes around other folks she will call you Chris, or Christopher. Sometimes when you are digging in the dogs food or water bowl she will call you Christopher Riley Fisher--she does that to impress your Grandma and I that she can show "Tuff Love" when she needs to. Truth is she is a cream puff when it comes to her Pootie. She adores you and you adore her back. She is a good mom, too (Grandma said so). You two are quite a pair. But you're the POOT. I apologize for any trouble this will cause you in later years.
Its hard to believe you have been with us a year already. You have been a good boy and you keep us all entertained. You also make us complete. Aunt Lyndsay thinks you're tops--Uncle Joe will never admit to it but he thinks you're a rascal. It just may be--that you are a Grandmas boy...That's a good thing, because I was a Grandmas boy too. I hope you love your grandma half as much as I loved mine.
And now, a year later, and you are crawling all over the place, playing with the dogs, getting into everything, and even beginning to talk real words.
Hold on, Poot. It gets better. Remember a few things along the way, though.
1) Red White and Blue, Forever. These colors don't run.
2) Baseball Rules!
3) The Army gets it done. All other branches of service are merely "Helpers".
4) The remote control is your birthright.
5) Never eat "healthy" cereal.
6) If you ever need anything, all you have to do is call "POPs"--that's me.
We wouldn't take a million bucks for you. Thanks for being here.
Happy Birthday, Poot!
Love, Pops
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