The night before Gene's tenth birthday, he and Zion quarreled, if you can even call it that. They were grumpy with each other, better said. But Gene was in bed but a moment before he had hopped back out again, running into his brother's bed to tell him he was sorry.
"I didn't want Zion's last memory of me as a nine-year-old to be a bad one," he told me. Of course not.
Then he was back in his bed and I was tucking him in. I admit my eyes misted over. I looked at my firstborn child and said, "I can't believe you're ten! I've so enjoyed being your mom."
He looked at me puzzled and said, "I'm still going to need a mom." Of course he will.
The next morning, he awoke to a decorated dining room. Daniel and his streamer creations! Presents were opened (each and every one of them a Lego Mixel set) and Fruit Loops were eaten.
Later in the day there was a visit from his Chinese teacher. She brought him a children's book in Chinese, and for good luck, as is the custom, coins and an egg (usually a real egg is given, but this one he can keep).
Then I ventured to make a Lego cake. Again, without the proper equipment, the result was a bit less defined than its Pinterest cousins, but we made do.
A quick adjective search on Google provided the perfect words to describe our son.
Tacos for dinner, his three best friends to spend the night (his first slumber party EVER) and ten shining candles on the cake.
It was a happy, happy day.
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| Elijah, Reister, and Gabriel with Gene. |
The next day, we went to Polar Ocean World, which is here in our city.
The place is old and a little crumbly, but the animals are obviously loved and well cared for, and the dolphin show rivaled that of any fancy aquatic zoo. Jubilee was very impressed.
They even had sharks! That's Brave against the glass, looking up in wonder.
Gene isn't the biggest ten-year-old around (though sturdy-built and unafraid), and he hasn't ever played on a baseball team. But he can speak a little Chinese, and he does know the size and brokenness of the world. But most of all, no other ten-year-old is loved any more than he is, and no other ten-year-old is happier.
Or handsomer, but I'm a little biased.
Welcome to the double digits, my son. May you live every day of your life on purpose. I love you.
