Homeboy Turns Ten

So, check this out - my son turned ten today. TEN. Take a moment with me here to just let that sink in...

Yes.

My life has gone through a lot of changes, but this one takes the cake. All kinds of things led up to the fact that TEN years ago I pushed another human being out of my vag with no drugs and a crazy mix of onlookers in all of my naked glory, and henceforth there was Jonah in the world. You're welcome!

But really, is this tripping anyone else out as much as it is me? Because, I don't know man...birthdays tend to get me all verklempt, but this one is kind of...big. Like, TEN TIMES as big as any of the birthdays leading up to it.

Bigger than this one - the first

...and this one, the second.
We discovered here that he hates whipped cream, wtf?!

What does it mean to have a ten-year-old son? Well, I'll have to get back to you on that one because how would I know? Dude just turned ten! But, what I can tell you is that at this moment in time - as in, all of the moments leading up to this one - is that he is rad. Perhaps the raddest son ever created (sorry everyone else with sons, this is just the way it is). He is sweet, compassionate, thoughtful, creative, funny, dry-humored and downright handsome.

This day. Ten.

Sometimes he forgets to say thank you, and sometimes he makes crazy high-pitched tortured-horse type noises, and sometimes he bugs out his eyes, opens up his mouth, and wags his tongue around like a deranged lizard boy...but he also patiently helps his sister pick out her clothes for school, laughs uproariously, builds the greatest living room forts, and gives 100% unsolicited pure-joy hugs, kisses, high-fives and smiles.

He gets me. I get him. Life would be eye-rollingly lame without him in it. And even though it took me many, many, many hours of intense pain to get him into the world, it was totally worth it. The kid is alright.

And he is mine.