So as I’m reading my birthday boy his story last night, I realized just how mundane the little guy’s birthday was. Lying there beside him after he said his prayers, I felt sorry that his 5th birthday was not overly special or memorable. His sister was sick, I was tired from lack of sleep, and because he was recovering from a cold too, we postponed our annual lunch out. Sure, he’s going to have three more parties to look forward to (classroom, grandparents, and then one with his buddies) but yesterday was just so…blah. Then I realized I didn’t even take any photos. I couldn’t help but fill up with tears as I was lying there. "Did you have a good birthday, Buddy?" I whispered, keeping my tears to myself. "Yeah," he said softly. After a short while he turned slightly and said:

"Next year I’ll be six."

"I know," I said, as softly as I could, because if I spoke any louder he would know I was crying.

"Then I’ll be seven and I’ll be in high school."

I had to laugh through my tears. "No babe. You’ll be in high school when you’re a teenager."

"I’ll be a teenager after I’m ten."

"When you’re thirteen," I whispered. At this point my tears were making a wet spot on his pillowcase.

He turned his back to me and settled into his pillow with his stuffed lamb. Before I kissed him goodnight, I rubbed his arm and back, savoring a snuggle with this little five year old who only yesterday was a baby in my arms.

"I’ll always remember today, Mommy."

It took every muscle in my face to keep from sobbing out loud. "What will you remember?" I whispered.

"This. I’ll remember it forever."

I’m so blessed to have this little boy as a son.

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