None of my sons can really be called a child anymore. Danny turned 13 on Sunday, and now he's just a rotten teenager. Okay, not so rotten, but there sure is a lot of testosterone in the house these days.
Danny had some unusual birthday requests. Dunkin’ Donuts. Eyewinkers. Kraft Macaroni and Cheese with Velveeta cheese added. Stir fry vegetables.
William made a Boston Cream Pie for dessert, which Danny didn't request, but enjoyed anyway.
It was a low-key day for such a momentous occasion, but we all enjoyed ourselves. Danny will have his official party sometime soon, when we can coordinate an outing for Laser Tag with a couple of his friends.
Meanwhile, it's back to the routine, and watching my songs grow so fast I can't keep up. In fact, I can't keep up, because very soon I'm going to end up being the shortest person in the family.
Which is not so bad. I guess.