Now, let's wander down memory lane, shall we?
|You see, he used to look like this|
|Then this! (Don't you sometimes just wake up and say, "Today I'll be a Robot Ballerina!"?)|
|And now he looks like this.|
Okay, now that we've covered the ins and out of why I'm turning into a ball of mush, here are 5 birthday wishes Ben has made repeatedly:
1. A plain, brown, terrycloth bathrobe. (Yes, he is this specific, every time. Also, yes I too think he is an 80 year old man trapped in a child's body. And why, every time I picture him in this bathrobe, do I imagine him with a mustache?)
2. A lot of gum. (At our house you can't chew gum until you are 5. We call it "The Gum Birthday")
4. The song, Best Day of My Life by American Authors put on Mom's ipod so he can listen to it anytime in the car. (Because, "It's a good song and I think when I turn 5 it will be the best day of my life. At least I think.")
5. A machine gun. A real one. But he promises he'll be very careful with it and "only point it at trees and leaves and stuff." (It's the "stuff" that makes me the most hesitant.)
He's a peculiar child, isn't he? I'm pretty sure he'll get some of the things on the list. I might have as much difficulty finding a plain brown bathrobe as I would a real child-sized machine gun. Wish me luck!