The Boy is twelve today. He’s nearing K’s height, and he’s losing the last vestiges of little-boy-ness that we’ve all grown so accustomed to. He’s not a little boy; he’s a little man. Almost.

We celebrated his birthday in a modest way today: the party is Sunday, and the Girl wasn’t even able to participate because she was at volleyball practice. But we made him a good dinner, bought him a small Key Lime birthday pie, and the K took him shopping.

What he bought is telling: no more toys, not even anything guitar-related. He wanted new shoes and new clothes. He’s changed his hairstyle (his choice), and he thinks about his appearance these days. No longer a little boy.

Reading Babcia’s card