8 years ago tomorrow it had been me, Ang, and Ciera for 5 years; granted, we tried to have them closer together but there's a line that goes something along "If you wanna hear God laugh, tell him YOUR plans". And so it was, on November 23 2003, just 11 months before the Sox finally broke through, that my son was born.
It's been a wild ride, most of which I've documented here along the way. The Doc told us he was probably a Downs Syndrome baby, then he came out feet first with the umbilical cord tied around his neck yet he's smart, funny, healthy, rowdy, polite, and the apple of my eye.
Tomorrow he turns 8 and if I slow down and think about it I'll probably cry like a baby but for right now? He's my best bud, my Red Sox watching companion, my catch partner, and he thinks I'm the best thing in the world.
So I'm just gonna enjoy it while it lasts.
Happy Birthday, mini-me.