Today we went to a birthday party for my feind MollyG's kid, the kid. It was a lovely party. The theme was Harry Potter (I wish I was creative enough to give themes to my kids' parties), and so we played games like try-to-guess-the-Bertie-Bott's-Beans-flavor, and find the Sorcerer's Stone in the Jenga blocks and so on. You get the idea. Everyone played pass the baby, which was super duper nice for me. There was magical simmering punch (dry ice=bad ass party drink). It was a great day, and I got to see Molla's family and friends that I have not seen in years.
I remember clearly how The Kid came into my world. Molla had moved to Ireland, and seeings how I'm hopelessly devoted to her & all, I was a little broken up about it. I really have no words for how bad I missed her. Well, time went on & I got used to her being gone, as one does, and then one day our old anthropology teacher from high school came into the diner I was working at. We caught up with each other and he asked how Molla was. I filled him in on her travels and then called Moll's mom to get a phone number or email address or something I can't fully remember so that he could contact her. Her mom's response to my request was, "Well, she's sitting right here. Ask her yourself."
Enter The Kid.
She got pregers, she came home, she had a baby, the rest is history.
He is beautiful in every way. A lover, a Beatles fan, a good son and grandson. Kind, sweet, interesting, funny and smart. I love him.
So happy birthday, Kid. Thanks for getting in your mommy's tummy. We are happy to have you. Me especially, cause you brought me home my friend.