He's a full hand today.
Usually, he wakes us up by cock-a-doodle dooing. He didn't this morning, but I hope I can always hear that in my mind as he grows older and forgets to do this. He bopped into bed between Dave and I this morning and he listened to us warble (me: warble, Dave: sing) Happy Birthday. When discussing the prospect of presents, he turned to us and said, "I just want you guys."
How do I not swirl up and lose myself in those words? Could there be anything finer? Doubtful.
When presented with a birthday pancake with a candle, he looked up full of love and said, "Thank you, mama. Thank you!" The words...fairly run of the mill words. But, ah! The tone. If I was still a 4th grade girl, I would be able to decorate the words with bubbly cursive and hearts at the bottom of the exclamation point to communicate the tone.
At lunch, he ordered grilled chicken and a salad. "Now that I am five, I think I will like salad now." He proceeded to chomp on lettuce and the light green part of cucumbers. "Maybe I will drink coffee now too," he said barely able to contain the giggles.
We wandered into Sweets on Marshall. Mindful of the allure of sugar, I reminded him to use your eyes, but do not touch anything. A few steps in he turns and looks at me a wee bit mournfully. "We have a problem, Mom. I can't seem to stop touching the floor."
Happy Birthday, Spencer.