Yesterday was my son’s ninth birthday, and at some point it occurred to me that it also marked the half-way point to the start of his adulthood.
When I mentioned this to his mother she got a little misty-eyed.
When I mentioned this to my father he likened this to being at the half-way point of a marathon: While technically it’s true that you only have as far to go as you have already gone, the second half is a lot more involved than the first.
“What do you want to do for your birthday?” Lala asked me yesterday.
“Reschedule it to a time when I feel like celebrating it,” I chuckled.
(Still recovering from the road and the events of last week, but me being snarky is a good sign that I’m getting better.)
Me: So . . . since it’s my birthday, does this mean I get to sleep in tomorrow?”
My Family: *deafening silence*
Me: *chuckling* Yeah . . . that’s pretty much what I figured.
*****
Mom: It’s a good thing you picked up the phone, otherwise I would have had to sing “Happy Birthday” as my message.
Me: Why do you think I picked up the phone?
