Happy Half-Birthday

For weeks, Elijah has been monitoring the calendar waiting for May 9th to get here so that he could turn 5-1/2. Well, yesterday was the big day (or, should I say, the "half-big" day). So after Robin picked him up from school, I dashed home real quick for a half birthday party. You could tell it was a half-birthday party...as there were no streamers, noise makers or even candles.

But there were the essential ingredients for an effective party: Hats (the same dunce-cap looking things we've been wearing for every birthday the boys have ever had); Presents (Elijah got a Star Wars watch); Cake (some brownie-looking thing with decorative icing. It was a yellowish-orange...and Noah wouldn't eat it because he thought it was cheese!); and Ice Cream.

But not just ANY ice cream...rather, ice cream that took me back in time thirty years! Think back to the day when there was no Marble Slab Creamery. A time when there was no Cold Stone Creamery. And a time when Austin folks hadn't discovered Amy's Ice Cream. Heck, Cookies'n'Cream wasn't even a flavor yet! The fanciest thing you could get was.....NEOPALITAN!!!

I remember LOVING that as a kid. After all, you had chocolate AND vanilla connected together!!! Of course, I also remember having to scrape away the strawberry part...as I would only eat the chocolate and vanilla. And Elijah, laying claim to the fact that he is MY son, did the exact same thing!

So everyone had a good time.

That night, as Elijah was getting ready for bed, he became very quiet -- almost depressed. I asked him what was wrong, and he started crying. After he composed himself, he told me that he was only going to get to see Teacher Michelle (his teacher at Rainbow Bible School) for five more days...and then he wasn't ever going to get to see her again (she lives around the corner from us, but I don't think Elijah knows that).

And more tears started flowing.

Robin and I both had to turn our heads so he wouldn't see us laughing. Granted, we weren't laughing at his crying; rather, we were both laughing because, again, he is MY son...and it sounded like something I would do when I was a little boy.

I sat Elijah down and told him that when I was little, I would do the same thing at the end of the school year. I remember crying and holding on with all my might to Ms LaGrone on the last day of Kindergarten because I didn't think I'd ever get to see her again. It was an embarassing time for my mother, but we still laugh about it today.

"You're ultra-sensitive, just like your daddy," I told him. And, for some reason, that made him feel better.