May 04, 2007
May the Fourth be with You
I think I'm getting away from myself here and what I'm trying to say, because what I'm trying to say is that today is the day that's two years after the day when you were born, to say birthed. To say, then, that today, is, your birthday.
Today is your second birthday, although in point of fact it's your third, on account of your first birthday, to my reckoning, is the day you're born, but by modern counting we say that your first birthday is the one that you have when you've been around for a year, but that doesn't take account of for instance that your birth, to say the date at which you emerged, wrinkled and red and yelling, from your mother, was one year previous which may account for that postulation that today is in fact not your second birthday but rather the second anniversary of your birth.
But, punkin, and this is an important point, if you wander around saying happy anniversary to people on their birthday, they will LOOK at you punkin, very strangely. This is not to suggest that you shouldn't do it, certainly your father, who has been known to serenade your mother at full volume in the supermarket, is not averse to being LOOKED at, (which, by the by, is very different to being looked at), nonetheless it's advisable that you're aware of the possibility.
I think the point to which I'm trying, slowly and with a great deal of meandering, to get to is that I, as a father, most certainly, in any case, as YOUR father, want to thank you, sincerely and absolutely, for bringing me two years of unwavering joy.
That I tell you this every day, and maybe. now that your vocabulary has extended past "yellow" to include such favourites as "toast", "juice", "elephant", "giraffe", "Lightning" (of course) and "bed"; and to find the beginnings of sentences (the vast majority of which begin with either "more" or "no", as in more toast, no shoes), maybe now you're just about ready to hear it from my lips to your ears instead of across the years and through this keyboard.
Maybe one day soon, and I promise, punkin, I promise that I'll be hear to listen to your tiny voice, to feel your sweet breath on my ear, maybe one day soon you'll tell me back. Maybe now that you know the words for cuddle and kiss, maybe soon you'll know these ones too....
My Sweet Prince
Abraham William Penford-Dennis