Today is the 18th birthday of our sons, Greg and David.
Fear and awe come upon you when your child turns 18.
When it’s two of them, you get overwhelmed. This is how the morning began…
(Forgive, some of our warped senses of humor, but it is what it is)
“I can go to a strip club.” (Ignored that one)
“Now I can smack you and not get charged with child abuse. Assault is a lesser offense.” (Not likely, as it wasn’t an option before, though now it would be unreasonable, as big as you are getting)
“Smoking some Cubans…” (I will probably be joining you on that one)
“Did you say, ‘Happy Birthday’ to your brother?” (No wonder psychologists are so fascinated by twin dynamics)
“We love you guys so much! You make us so proud!” (Pure truth)
Happy Birthday my sons. You are completely safe and secure in the covering of a Father who adores you and is so very proud of you, and there is another father who says, “Ditto.”
