Even when he's quiet (which is very, very rarely) his mind is at work, imagining, creating, designing, dreaming.
If I were to label my brood, Caleb would be the creative one.
The inventor.
But at the moment, he might disagree with me.
At the moment, he is a fighter pilot like Papa and Grandaddy, and this is the jet that will take him to far off places.
But he promises to be home in time for lunch.
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