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Happy 5 Son!
On Tuesday, my son turned five. As he heads into being five, he and I did some talking about what I was like when I was five. We talked about where I lived in Lorain, Ohio; my step-dad throwing seaweed on my chest and making me cry (and that he thought he was being funny and not being a mean step-dad); my favorite TV shows being Scooby-Doo and Batman; the biggest fart I ever let that rattled the hardwood floors in the upstairs hallway while I played with my cars; my incorrect idea that kindergarten was nothing more than playing baseball all day long; stuffed animals; the toys I had; and the time I put on my red glitter suit and announced to my parents and their friends I was going to be a tap dancer when I grew up and proceeded to stomp on the hardwood floors in a pair of platform dress shoes while the adults in the room about peed themselves laughing at me and I just kept dancing much like the way my son loves to pose with his sword and shield and make action poses and faces as if he is Link fighting Gannondorf and we even go so far as to take pictures of him in these action poses while we laugh and he stays perfectly in character. My son and I found common ground in Scooby-Doo, Batman, stuffed animals, and farts. I hope that as we get older we don't wind up with the only thing we have left in common is farts. But you never know how children will grow up and how they will change and which parts of you they will abandon and which parts of you they will grow into on their own and a parent can only hope that you can stay close after all the changes a child goes through. But for now my son is five and full of imagination and silliness and he loves me to death and I will savor every minute of it because I know it goes so fast... so fast some days it hurts. Happy birthday son! Happy fucking 5! Here's to five years of hanging out with my best friend. I love you son! Now go play on your new swing set and give me a minute to compose myself and choke down my sentimental mush before somebody sees me.
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