It was the same thing when you came to live with us, Jason, our ward of the state. It was terrifying. It could be great, it could be a disaster.
Two months ago, you showed up here. One pair of jeans, that awful dog-urine soaked comforter, and no coat in the middle of January. Plus a folder with one birth certificate, two immunization records, and zero health insurance cards. That was the moment, showing you around our house, saying "make yourself at home" and pretending we knew how to do that, when I thought, this could be a disaster, or it could be great. Either way, it's happening, right here, right now, so here we go!
I'm twenty-three years old, and you're twelve years old today (twelve! that's something to celebrate!). It's a small age difference, and I think we all know it's an even smaller maturity difference :)
I know this is a scary, new, exciting time for you. New people, new haircut, new rules and lifestyles and comforters. New posters on the wall and old basketballs on the shelf.
The bottom line is: you are great! You're doing so well here and you put up with two twenty-three year olds who have no idea how to be parents, let alone a legal guardians, to another human soul. It's both great and terrifying, but mostly it's great. I'm glad I can share it with you.
So to the best cartoon-making, stomach-rolling, pushup-doing TWELVE-year-old I know: happy birthday!!
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P.S. I'd like to formally make it known to the world that we're going to Red Robin for his birthday dinner, and all my favorite foods are officially over 1,000 calories. I knew I loved that place.
P.P.S. Still working out the last kinks and changes in my new blog design, so I apologize for those little things that aren't quite right yet.
