Happy birthday, son.
You’ve grown so much this past year — in smarts, size, interests, and yes, your mullet.
Your seventh year felt like seven years to me. You just seem to age so quickly that I kept forgetting you were still only six. The year began with a kid who loved Pokémon and soccer, and now we’ve got a kid who still does — but who has also become obsessed with baseball and collecting cards. At this rate, we might have to sell your Pokémon collection just to fund your Topps habit. We even signed you up for fall baseball to see if your skills can keep up with your passion.
We kept your birthday low-key this year — no big party. You’ve got one of those tricky summer birthdays that lands right before the Fourth of July, so the logistics are tough. That said, we still had a huge weekend together. You scored a rebound net for baseball practice, tons of new card packs, and a card binder to keep your collection organized. We sang Happy Birthday at the cabin, and you blew out candles on your favorite Trader Joe’s vanilla sheet cake. Honestly, your birthdays are always so chill — and somehow, just right.
Back at Harstine Island this summer, everyone is commenting on how much you’ve grown and how different you look. I agree — you’ve got a little pre-adolescent look going now. But so much of you is still the same: you love to cuddle with Mom, stay physically close to people, wear your tight Italian-style swimsuits all day, and spend your beach time flipping rocks for crabs or wading way too deep in search of a moonsnail or perfect stick.
I think it’s going to be a great summer — and a great year ahead for you.
Love,
Dad