Five years later :
The afternoon sun filtered through the tall windows of our kingsley estate sunroom, casting warm golden patches on the hardwood floors that still bore faint scratches from our little one's early toddling days.
Life had settled into a beautiful rhythm of pack duties, Kingsley Company board meetings for Elias, and my own ventures in omega advocacy programs. But today, chaos reigned in the form of our five-year-old son, Aiden, Addy for short, named after his great-grandpa kingsley.
He stood before me in the foyer, his golden eyes wide and innocent, dark hair tousled like his father's after a long day, but his clothes... gods, his clothes were a muddy disaster. Mud caked his jeans from knee to hem, splattered across his shirt like abstract art, and even streaked h
