Last year, I turned 41 and it was a pretty shitty birthday. We had just lost “Baby J.” Today, at 6:45 in the morning, we heard the door across the hall creak open, and little feet pad into the room. And then, my son crawled into bed with us and said, “Daddy, cuddle Mikey.”
Don’t have to do much else to make this the best birthday ever.
Apropos of nothing, here’s a video from Christmas, of Mikey putting on a joke t-shirt I gave Ian and hamming it up.
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