I never really thought about what it would mean, 13 years ago, when you were born…that at some point you would grow UP. Grow beyond, pass me with a smile and a wave and that glint of mischief in your eye. I mean, I KNEW it was coming, but it wasn’t any kind of tangible real thing then. That you would grow from a baby with the most darling feet and dimple to a toddler to a child to a preadolescent to a TEENAGER.
Now you’re in 7th grade. You’re thirteen! You’re the most amazing person and all I can do is marvel at you, nearly every day. I remember being thirteen (back in the Stone Age). It was the year I met my best friend, the year I began to understand how the world worked and what it meant to grow up; at least the beginning of a glimpse of what it meant (I’m still learning what it means, actually. You’ll see!). Thirteen was being poised on the edge: no longer a child in so many ways, but adulthood still frustratingly far away. It comes faster than you think: enjoy every minute of being a teenager, kid. I love you! Happy birthday, Martin!
