They say one is the loneliest number, but careful observation has confirmed that one is only lonely if it doesn't have to survive being punted across the room by an older brother and sister.
Today, Doc Holiday celebrates his first and most auspicious birthday. And while we did give him new pajamas with puppies on them, I'd also like to send him my warmest congratulations on one full year of survival.
September 4, 2013
Dear Mr. Holiday,
Happy Birthday! I do hope you like the new pajamas. Most of your things are hand-me-downs, but your father and I felt the aerodynamic construction and breathable cotton blend would help when you needed to run away from the other children.
I think you and I can both agree that this year has taught us speed = survival.
Please remember to keep your head down and to bob and weave, hold whatever you stole close to your chest, and to take a sufficient supply of graham crackers into the cabinets if you'll be hiding for an extended period of time.
I'd like to take this opportunity to say I've thoroughly enjoyed having you stay with us for the past year. What you lack in sleeping through the night you've made up with a happy disposition and an all around positive outlook on the fact you're outnumbered and your life's constantly in danger. We appreciate the optimism.
It's also worth mentioning that you're an extremely handsome child. But sometimes you're too handsome and strangers don't believe you're really my child. It kind of makes me feel like the ugly friend. In the next year, I'd really like it if we could work on coordinating days where I'm wearing makeup and you're hair's messed up, or something along those lines.
Speaking of your hair, it's really curly and adorable, but it doesn't help that the rest of the kids don't have curly hair. I'm starting to sound like a broken record to your dad.
"Yes, he's yours. I know. I know. The mailman does have curly hair, but you're forgetting that I also have curly hair when I curl it with the curling iron."
I suppose there's nothing you can do about this, so just remember to wash, gel, and tousle lightly. Not too much though. You don't want to spend the second year of your life looking like Barbara Streisand in a wind tunnel.
Unless it turns out you're a great singer, and then you can pretty much do your hair any way you want. Babs looked like a poodle in A Star Is Born, but she could belt it out, so the rest of America was like, "Yeah, ok."
Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we're all very happy you were born. I love you. Your father loves you. And the twins love you, even when they're chasing you with a spatula.
Until Next Time, Readers!