Six months or so ago, when Avery realized he was on the downhill slope to five, he started saying he was four-and-a-half. Except the way he said four-and-a-half, all at once, made four-and-a-half sound like four-half. Kind of grown-up, the way he tacked on the half to his age. And today he is five. Technically, tonight, at 7:55 p.m. he is five. Also a Sunday, the day he was born.
My mother is here. She missed last year’s birthday, having come earlier in the summer, but was here the year before. Took him shopping yesterday, where he scored more in a few minutes than he would have under other circumstances. His gifts had to be exciting, and while an animatronic dinosaur and a lego playset held his interest for a little bit, he settled on part of the Dinosaur Train series of toys and three of the cars/characters from Mario Kart. A shirt and two new toothbrushes were added, as were the things Holly and I had for him: Cars, books (dinosaurs, Handy Manny), a Spiderman backpack with accessories for his first day of school this week, and a four-story-high racetrack with racing cars.
Dinosaurs and cars hold his interest, though when he is calmer, he wants to be read to, sitting on knees or standing between legs, flipping pages because he knows when the story, at least on that page, has ended.
He is growing–into himself and taller. A 30-day period earlier this summer resulted in his growing and inch-and-a-half. He’s matured, my mother thinks, not just in his face but also in his behavior. He’s still, and will remain, my favorite boy, even though he soon will protest as being called a boy. Can’t stop growing up; all you can do is make sure that you and your relationship with your child doesn’t become extinct.