The only relative of mine currently unable to read this blog anytime in the near future officially turns 1 today. And holy crap has he managed to grow like a bad weed. He’s dangerously close to standing on his own, and as long as he has something to hold onto with one hand, he can give walking a fair attempt as well. And just recently, he’s made a semi-convincing attempt at forming words that consist of more than just muffled baby noises. This only just in his first year. If he starts actually walking this week, I think I’d call that a birthday present from himself to himself.
They’ve aranged a small little get-together they’re calling a party for him, an, folks have even shown up with gifts–though I think he’s still at that stage where the box the gift came in is more fun than the gift. Still, if it’s not insanely fun, someone’s not doing something right.
Happy birthday, kid. Hope you have as much fun on this trip around the sun as you did on the last one. Now where’d I put that can of coke I was gonna split with you without mommy knowing…?