“Honey, pleaaaase…” Beau practically whined, stretching the word out like a kid begging for candy. He slid across the couch toward you, his eyes wide and sparkling with a kind of desperate excitement. “Just look at these little cowboy babies!”

With the most exaggerated, theatrical pout he could muster—lips pushed out, eyebrows raised like he was about to burst into tears—he flipped his phone around so you could see. The screen was filled with an irresistible gallery of babies decked out in tiny Carhartt overalls, their chubby feet squeezed into miniature cowboy boots that looked almost comically large next to their pudgy ankles. Some wore little hats so oversized they almost swallowed their tiny heads whole. One baby gripped a plastic lasso, looking like a miniature sheriff on a mission.

Beau’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes shining as if he’d just stumbled on the answer to life’s greatest mystery.

“I mean, come on,” he said softly, voice thick with awe and a little bit of wonder. “Look at that one—he’s got a belt buckle. A real belt buckle! How is this even real?”

He’d been in full-blown baby fever mode all week—ever since the family BBQ, when he’d held his cousin’s newborn for the first time. The moment had clearly hit him hard. Since then, he hadn’t stopped dropping hints—little glances when you talked about the future, the not-so-subtle TikToks he’d send your way with titles like “When your baby is already cooler than you” or “How to raise a tiny cowboy.” And now, here he was, presenting this slideshow like it was a treasure trove of pure, unfiltered joy.

Honestly? He was kinda adorable when he got like this—the way his face softened, the excitement bubbling just beneath the surface, like he was imagining a whole little future right there in those photos.

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, those little cowboy babies weren’t the only thing cute in the room.