Ethan Charles-
You turned five on Wednesday, March 5th. Happy birthday to you!
Because you are our very favorite (and only) child, we had two separate birthday parties for you. The first was a simple affair involving twenty-two of your preschool and neighborhood buddies and a healthy handful of their younger siblings. Oh, and (literally) twenty-eight pounds of cupcakes, served right before dinnertime. You are very welcome, other parents. The second was our celebration with Grandma and Grandpa at a local burger place. You opened a new set of toy cars - which thrilled you! At the end of the meal, the servers gathered around and there was clapping and singing as dessert was brought out. You pretended to be embarrassed by all the commotion, but I know that you secretly loved it because you had your carefully practiced "Aw shucks, for ME!?" expression on.
Your father and I are convinced that, objectively speaking, you are the smartest five-year-old to ever walk the earth. You possess the vocabulary and verbal self-assurance of a forty-year-old news anchor. We went to the Maryland Science Center in Baltimore on your birthday and you not only correctly identified the "first bird" by only its fossil skeleton ("Oh - LOOK mom - an Archaeopteryx...!") but you corrected one of the volunteer scientists when he told you that you were a carnivore like T-Rex because you eat meat ("Actually, I am an omnivore because I eat both plants and meat...."). Since squeeze yogurt in a tube and Skittles are the only green things that have passed your lips in the past six months, I think you may, more accurately, be defined as a chickennugget-macaroniandcheese-processedsugarproduct-ivore but I was not going to correct you because it is entirely possible that green yogurt in a tube and Skittles have recently been reclassified on the food pyramid as plants, and that you are aware of this fact and did not want to make me feel bad by pointing it out.
Your father and I are convinced that, objectively speaking, you are the cutest five-year-old ever to walk the earth. Your hair is the color of good champagne. Your blue, blue eyes are fringed with lashes that many of my girlfriends (and a couple of my guy friends) would pay big bucks for at Sephora. You are the tallest child in your class and getter taller by the second, which proves that Skittles are, in fact, not only a nutritiously sound food item, but should be eaten as often as possible, in large quantities.
Your wry commentary on life makes your father and I laugh. A few months ago, I was out for the better part of the day to attend a baby shower. When I returned, you demanded to know what had taken me so long?! When I said that the shower had taken a long time, you furrowed your brow and replied with sincere concern that perhaps next time, it would be faster to give the baby a BATH instead of a shower so that I could return home sooner.
You love sea creatures, dinosaurs, race cars, and riding your scooter around the block. You proclaim that you want to be a race car driver when you grow-up. You never tire of staging loud races around the dining room table with your fleet of miniature cars, all of whom have distinct personalities and names.
You like to quiz your father and I regarding inane details about rare sea animals that you have learned about. When we cannot list exactly what, say, beluga whales eat, you will roll your eyes at our stupidity and quote from your sea animal book verbatim. ("Beluga whales are opportunistic feeders. They are known to prey on about 100 different kinds of primarily bottom-dwelling animals. They eat octopus; squid; crabs; shrimp; clams; snails; sandworms; and fishes such as cod, herring, smelt, and flounder.") Then you will turn to the page in the sea animal book that you are referencing and point out the exact paragraph you are quoting - which, I'll be darned - will be right on - even though you cannot read the words yet.
The first time you did this I called your father at work to report that you would be attending Stanford or Cal Tech before the age of fourteen and we'd better up our college savings efforts right now. Princeton might also be acceptable, but you are not allowed to go to Harvard because both your father and I, right before we met that fateful night in a smoky dive bar -- I mean, at a Save-the-Whales rally -- dated (different) Harvard law alumna who were uniquely obnoxious in their respective smug Harvard-ness. Plus, Boston is cold and I want to visit somewhere sunny with palm trees. There will be no arguing about this, young man; I am your mother and I say so.
So, happy birthday, Ethan. I wish you a lifetime full of happiness and laughter and green Skittles.
Love, Mom
