Utterly Smitten

I'm addicted.
Addict. Latin: addictus, past participle of addicere to favor. To devote or surrender to something habitually or obsessively.
Yes, I'm addicted. To his smell, his little smile, his adorable voice, and his soft skin. I breathe him in when he comes near, trying hard not to forget when he walks away. Its a combination of milk and honey with a touch of baby. I hold his hand whenever he lets me and ask for more kisses than he will give. I memorize his face, his voice, his walk, because I know it will change in a week.
Then, when he goes to bed, I miss him. Brandon thinks I'm crazy. I didn't miss him like this when I worked. Why? Absence is supposed to make us fonder. But could it be that the more I have of him, the more I want?
He amazes me:
He repeats everything I say.
He strings words into sentences.
He remembers names.
He knows his colors.
He loves books.
He loves his daddy.
He plays and explores.
He follows me around.
He holds my hand.
He gives me kisses..."love you".
He wants me to pick him up..."up. pleeeease."
How can I resist?
So my addiction remains.