Happy 9th Birthday, Brandon

I can’t believe you’re nine years old! It seems like it was just yesterday that you were dressed in a Blue’s Clues outfit and singing “Feliz Navidad” while playing your “mitar” (guitar). Now you are half-way to state sanctioned adulthood. Except for renting a car. You can’t do that until you’re 25 and you have to have a credit card.

Right now our days are filled with taking you to school, making you do your homework, listening to you talk about video games, computer games and soccer. You and I laugh at Matthew’s crazy antics and we’re always waiting for him to do something hilarious.

Sometimes I get on to you, for things like running in public places, forgetting to say “yes sir” and not paying attention to detail on your math homework. But it’s for your own good. No, really. One day, you’ll thank me for it. When you realize that it’s important to be polite, and that being able to pay attention to numbers is helpful (like understanding your paycheck), then you’ll thank me. But not right now.

You are a good kid. Smart. Funny. And always looking for a way to make a dollar. You are the mastermind of get-rich-quick scenarios. You have some birthday money already, and you just can’t stand it. You want to save it for later, but I know that you will want to spend it the next time we go to Target and you see something you want. One time, at your grandmother’s house in Texas, you set up a toll gate at the top of her stairs and charged people to get by. We were paying you with change, but you conned your Uncle Brent out of $5!

So, happy birthday, Brandon. Daddy and I love you very much.