Alouicious is eight today. Bless his heart.
He's been up since 6 bouncing around our heads whispering in our ears that he should be given a present. One whole present. An expensive terrifying present. A present that's going to need parental controls and probably a heavy duty protective case so that when his nasty little sister picks it up and flings it on the floor it has a chance of survival.
That's right, the only thing he wanted for his birthday, and the only thing he's going to get (just kidding, he's being given a bike too, blast his incessant growing) is a
May God have mercy on my soul, and his.
So, obviously, I can't sit here and describe for you all my feelings and thoughts and insights. If I don't get a move on and wrap that sucker, this child will have some kind of break down. And I guess I need to bake a cake, and for supper he's requested 'Fancy Pancakes', in other circles known as 'Crepes'.
Happy Birthday Alouicious. Now that you have your own internet connection you can probably read this. (sound of weeping, sobbing and general distress as I take another inch forward into a life where my children are sentient and ever more involved in my life)