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| Thursday, July 13, 2006 |
| Dylan Number Nine |
The day before yesterday was Dylan's Birthday. He turned nine. He woke up early, came directly to my room where I woke to find him next to my bed, asking if he could open his present from Grandma Greenburg. I hugged and kissed him, wishing him a happy birthday- and almost in the same breath- immediately apologizing because I could not afford presents or a party for him. He tried to shield his disappointment, poor baby.
Later, I ran to the grocery store for the ingredients to make a cake... leaving him in charge. When I returned, I gave him the Leatherman my boyfriend bought for his day. His eyes were huge and filled with delight, the shiny new utility tool his new best friend. I also handed him a library card I attained for him the day before. Again, he shields his disappointment.
We have a tradition, my sons and I. On the designated boy's birthday, he is given the option of helping bake and decorate the cake. Dylan nearly baked his entirely on his own this year. I almost cried. So grown up, he almost doesn't need me to do anything for him anymore.
When I made lunch, I lifted all eigty-one pounds of him onto the counter the way I did when he was little. I made him peanut butter toast, then carried him to his chair. Along the way a nearly inaudable, "Oooh." crossed his lips. So endearingly. I swallowed my tears again. It may be silly, but I already miss my son's childhood.
My mother gave him a beautiful set of scriptures with his name inscribed in gold lettering on the cover. They came in a matching case that she and my father painstakingly embroidered with his name aswell. He took them to bed with him that night, he's spent every moment of free time pouring over them.
When his father called to wish him a happy birthday, he told the man he'd gotten all he wanted for his birthday. In lieu of gifts he asked his dad to send his mom money, his brothers clothes and toys. For a moment I was outraged, and incredibly embarrassed. Then sad. Sad because my little man thinks of such things.
I will make it up. I am always making it up. Forever in debt to my children for a normal life. |
posted by katmandusuekookachoo @ 6:44 PM  |
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