Six years old

Zee is my October baby. He was born on a blindingly beautiful autumn day some six years ago.

The day before his birthday this year, he went to bed excited. "What's tomorrow, Zee?" "My birthday, Mom! I'll be six years old! That's pretty big, isn't it, Mom?"

Yes, my dear, it is.

The morning of his birthday, I was sitting in my bedroom, taking care of the baby. All of a sudden, a herd (at least) of elephants pounded down the stairs and into Zee's bedroom. I could hear the elephants say, "I gotta get dressed I gotta get dressed Igottagetdressed..."

"Zee?" I called. "What's going on? What's the hurry?"

"I gotta get dressed, Mom. I just remembered: It's my birthday!"

(I'm not sure why those two facts were related. It's not like he needed to leave the house right away on account of his birthday.)

At the store and at school that day, he made it a point to tell everyone about this special day of all special days. There is nothing quite as sweet as a six-year-old, gap-toothed boy, telling you all about his birthday.

That night we had Zee's special birthday meal: Penne Rigata (aka "Pasta") and spaghetti sauce (aka "dipping sauce") and garlic-butter rolls (aka "Red Lobster" rolls). And then we adjourned to the living room for presents.

First Zee opened the books Grandma Tobler sent:

Em and Gee were only moderately interested in this part. They had helped me wrap the other presents, and they were SO excited for Zee to open the toys.

But Zee's attention, instead of being fixed on the pile of presents yet unopened, was caught by this amazing book. This book with words in it. Words he could...read!

And so he opened this book ("The Fire Cat" by Esther Averill), and began to read aloud.


Bradley and I looked at each other, amazed and amused. You see, Zee has been able to read small words and short little books ("Mat sat. Sam sat. Mat and Sam sat."), but hasn't show us that he can really read--or that he is particularly interested in doing so. But just a few days before his birthday, as he was preparing for the Primary Program, he took the paper with his part written on it and READ IT. We thought it was awesome, but we had been practicing for a week, so it seemed it was half-read and half-memorized.

But this! This was for-real, one hundred percent reading. A brand-new book, never before seen or read to him. A pile of alluring presents, on the table in front of him. And all he wanted to do was read.

And so he did, while we all listened, thrilled. He needed some help with some words ("Pickles" "Chief"), and sometimes he did skip certain words, putting the sentence together the way he thought it should be. (For example, instead of "Pickles would chase all the other cats up the tree" he would read "Pickles chased all the cats up the tree.") But still!

He read and we listened.


We listened and he read.

Eventually Gee decided to take matters--and presents--into his own hands. We took them away, hushed the bored Em and Gee, and kept listening.

After 25 minutes and 56 pages, I tactfully asked Zee if he maybe wanted to read the rest of book later. He looked up, startled, and then agreed that maybe it was time to open some more presents.

Ten minutes later, after opening letter and number magnets, a Zula Patrol DVD, and several Bakugan toys, the book was almost forgotten. And then of course there was cake--except Zee vastly prefers donuts, so we had those instead.

(I thought we had birthday candles, but I couldn't find them anywhere. But tea lights work in a pinch, and Zee didn't care; the only thing that mattered to him was the blowing-out-part.)

Before going to bed that night, Zee told us, "Birthdays are so much fun!"

So are six-year-old boys, Zee. I love you!