The Spare. He is 18. Today. At straight up 5pm. Dear Lord.
He entered the world in the craziest roller coaster ride ever. He broke both arms before he was 2 1/2, in separate accidents -- neither of which I have heard the real truth about, I'm sure. He swallowed a quarter and had to have it surgically removed. I still have the quarter -- and the $3000 hospital bill that went along with it. He got lost at Vacation Bible School when he was 2 -- they couldn't find him for 45 minutes -- and he had just had surgery that day. (That's a story for another day.) He got lost LOTS of times at the Children's Museum, but we virtually always found him in the gift shop, playing with the trains. He went to Europe, tasted some wine and, as he said "found out I'm a depressed drunk." To which Thomas replied "that sucks."
He speaks a different language than us, most days, but it is a highly intelligent one that, though it may not make sense at first pass, is actually pretty darned smart. He has a wicked sense of humor -- even when he doesn't intend to be funny. He can dance, and it's a very amazing thing to watch when he really breaks loose. He's has a 3.9 GPA, but doesn't consider himself to be one of the "smart kids," and will argue that point till he's blue in the face. It's not that he doesn't want to BE one of the smart kids. He just doesn't think he's in the top echelon. He's wrong about that, by the way.
He's got a heart as big as the universe, and is a sensitive soul. He gives great hugs -- frequently -- and would put himself in front of a truck for his mama, I think. He loves the chickens. And his cat........oh, Lordie, his cat. He loves that cat, and that cat loves him. ::sigh::
And so it is that we celebrate today the birth of Seth. If I've heard once this week, I've heard a hundred times "you know, I'm gonna be 18 on Saturday." I know, I know. He was a little disappointed to hear that although he can now buy lottery tickets, he still can't go into a casino (this is a good thing). He can now get drafted, buy porn and cigarettes, drive with passengers in the car, and vote (he's quite sad he missed the election by a few weeks, but things turned out ok, so he was fine with it). He was somewhat dismayed to hear that although he can't go into a strip club yet, he CAN work as a stripper. And he gave me a little slinky wiggle when he announced that. Oye vay.
This boy, The Spare, is, and will be, forever my baby. He makes me proud every day, and makes me laugh even more. And in between, he makes me smile, because he is Seth. The one and only. The brainiac. Switzerland. The little brother. And all around good guy.
Happy birthday, baby boy. Your mama loves you.