Alaska boy, I can’t believe you’re six.
Your first day on Earth, I was terrified. I was in charge of something ALIVE that couldn’t take care of itself at all.
You got bigger, a little at a time.
And one day, all of a sudden, you were a little person – not a lump.
And from the start, you danced.
and danced some more
You’ve ridden dogsleds
made it through a car wreck with a tractor trailer without a scratch – and without even dropping your cookie
lived by the beach
got stitches, and a “Han Solo” scar
slept on TOP of your dresser
lived with your parents’ terrible influence
wobbled through your first ski lesson
met a mermaid
and blown out candles SIX TIMES
I don’t know what’s next – maybe you’ll fly a plane, or build a rocket, or simply watch all the episodes in existence of Phineas and Ferb, but know that we’ll be here to cheer you on.
You big doofus.