Nine is fine...

Today is Bubba's birthday. This morning, I got up early so I could have cinnamon rolls hot out of the oven as soon as he emerged from his room. The girls were still asleep so the house was peaceful and quiet. Honey even left for work a little late just so he could eat breakfast with the birthday boy.



I stole the first 9 year old hug and swallowed the lump in my throat as so many memories came rushing back all at once.

He was excited to smell the cinnamon rolls in the oven, and as we all waited for them to finish baking, he wanted to know what time he was born. I pulled out his baby book to check the official records because Iwanted to get it right. As we flipped through the pages, Honey and I started telling him stories about the first few years of his life.



We told him that he was 9 lbs 2 oz when he was born and that there was only one other baby in the nursery that afternoon. She was a sweet little 5 lb. bundle and when they rolled their bassinetts side by side, he looked like the Goliath to her David.

We remembered all the people that came to see him in the hospital and right after we got home.

We remembered that he never slept during the day, but he was a great sleeper at night.

We told him that when he was about 4 months old we taught him to growl "What's uuuuuuup?" just like they used to do on that commercial.

We talked about his first birthday partyand how he thought we were crazy to let him just dig in to the cake.

We showed him the sweet picture at his second birthday party when I had to help his fingers make the number 2.

We looked at projects from Tuesday school and the bracket he filled out for March Madness in 2005.

It was one of the best birthday mornings I can remember. I'm filing that memory away for safe keeping.