Double digits

It's official, folks. The baby of our family has entered his double digits. Damon Sebastian, who was born as a tornado was menacing the area- which is fitting, now that I think about, it as we often call him "Crash" or "Smashin' Sebastian"- is an entire decade old. 

I informed his Dad that age ten is probably a good time to get him his first knife. I didn't get mine until college, but that's besides the point. I figured we'd go with a Swiss Army knife, one with the tweezers and toothpick and fancy little doodads, stuff to keep a ten year old amused. 

Looks like things loaded out of order again, sorry. 

The house rule here at Lalaith Havens is that you can only be on the outside of as many stairs as you are old. This kid has been pushing and pushing and pushing to be allowed on the 10th step and I kept telling him that he wasn't allowed on it until 1:24 AM on June 5th. This is him, promptly scurrying around his ten stairs. 

All winter this kid wanted to play what he called "Badmit," never mind that we corrected him at every opportunity. Seems like a June birthday is the perfect excuse to find a badminton set, especially as Covid 19 has closed our community's swimming pool for the summer. Otherwise these boys would just play on video games in the basement all day every day. Damon would probably survive because he's sturdy but Liam doesn't eat much and we say he lives on fresh air and sunshine. I'm afraid if he doesn't at least get those that he might shrivel up and turn into dust!

Now, I should be clear here. They're not interested in rules or how to play, even. They're 10 and 14, so they're deeply vested in whapping it either as high as possible or as fast as they can straight at each other. There's no finesse going on here. They're outside and they're enjoying it so it's all good.

Pap came out to help us eat cake and ice cream and goof off. He was even a willing participant in some of the badminton "games." He didn't even seem to mind that his usual bedroom here had been mostly taken over by Dada's work-from-home paraphernalia (wow, is that ever a weird word to try to spell. I butchered it so badly I had to go look it up because spell check didn't even recognize it.)

I know I tell you this all the time, kid, but our family wasn't finished until we had you and I am so glad we did. You make me laugh every single day. You have this incredible zest for life once you shift your attitude from how mean I am to make you get off the video games to whatever needs done next. You're so big and long and tall and are so funny and dirty and goofy and adorable and delicious that I just want to eat you up all the time. I love that you still want read to at bedtime, that you want Oreos after every meal, that you pout and laugh, "you're so mean" whenever I remind you to clear your spot at the table, that you're getting so good at emptying the dishwasher, that I can hear you just about anywhere in the house, and that you worked your butt off for distance learning this spring to the tune of all A's and B's. I love you for a million reasons and I'm so glad you're you.