HBD Z

Today our Jedi turns 7.  I’ve been in a subtle state of shock all day, thanks in part to Facebook’s time-machine reminder of a picture I posted of him as a newborn baby, still covered in that miraculous gak.  Maybe that’s why we called him Zac.  No, probably not.  But still.  Maybe.

Emily did a fine job (as always) of getting his gifts months in advance.  I played a minimal role since she’s a pro and doesn’t need my head to nod for much when it comes to gift giving.   I wish I was a good gift getter.  It simply doesn’t come naturally to me.  To put it simply: I’m a very good not good gift getter.

What did I do?  I bought him a Chia-pet on the way home from the office, because every kid should have a Chia-something, with emphasis on the prefix Chia.  In this case, it was a Chia-Spider-Man-Crawling-Up-A-Brick-Wall.  I got it from a drugstore, since that’s where you find that kind of stuff.  Ibuprofen, mass market Skittles, and Chia-items.  We’d do fine on a deserted island, as long as there’s a Walgreens on one corner.  Any corner would do.

I didn’t tell my son I bought him a houseplant, since that would be borderline abuse.  I did tell him, however, that I bought him a science experiment endorsed by a respected, albeit fictional, scientist-ish authority named Peter Parker.  The experiment begins tomorrow.

This is the part where I say “I can’t believe he’s this old” and “time flies” and “I regret the Chia-” but I think that goes without saying.  I’m proud to be dad to such an awesome kid.  I love you, Zac.

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