Today was a BANNER MORNING. Y'see, Cassidy turned SIX.
So! There were pancakes for breakfast and the Opening Of Some Of The Swag and Delighted Dancing when he saw the neat cards his faraway relatives sent.
(One had a fire-truck bell on it that when pressed, went off. And another had a frog whose tongue flipped out at you when you opened it. And the dinosaur cards. Seriously dino cool.)
The best part, though, was him sliding into bed this morning and asking me about the day he was born. My God, he's SIX. How can he be that old when I still remember every minute of the day before he was born?
(Okay, the actual day? Really good drugs. I'ma leetle fuzzy in places.)
I blearily remember staring at the light in the operating room and catching glimpses off the reflective surfaces of something red and shiny (Hello, insides! So this is what you look like!) and the minute he was grappled out, all purple and red and outraged and so long (was that in me? Really? Wow, it's loud.) and my husband carrying something wrapped in his arms so carefully, so gingerly with a look of utter, shocked bliss.
'It's a boy' Bear said, his voice breaking. 'He's beautiful.'
Happy, Happy Birthday, sweet boy.