Fear the Bam

So I'm actually getting this year's birthday tribute to my younger kid up on the right day for a change. He's sitting at the kitchen table as I write this, devouring his usual breakfast of PopTarts and cereal, because both Ilse and I were too busy and too run down to get his favorite thing, which is small sugar-covered cake donuts. But that's okay, they gave the boy cupcakes yesterday afternoon at school, in lieu of a zoo trip beaten into cancellation by the merest whisper of a world about powerful thunderstorms. The sugar buzz was first rate.

That was a little bit of a disappointment, since we had spent some time on building that up. I was, you see, going to chaperone the lad on this trip, and since it involved the Metro, which he has experienced once, unsuccessfully, his teacher and I had laid on the preparation. She wrote a little picture story about him going to the zoo on the Metro with his school chums and his teacher and his Andy^*, and read it to him twice a day, and for most of  a week I read it to him each evening after dinner, and it became a little bit of routine, he'd actually go get the story off the kitchen counter and bring it to me to read to him, and we had to read it twice, and he still acted surprised and gratified when we got to the picture of his Andy, and...well, elaboration is unnecessary. The boy and I connect, is all. Sadly, we didn't get to connect at the zoo. Maybe today, we're still waking up. No effing Metro, though.

So you've seen a lot of it before, like for instance here, so no need. No change: I used to just exist, now I have to, end of story.

Happy 12th birthday, Bam-Bam. Rock on, rock on, rock on. You're my favorite, don't tell Databoy.

^* Yeah, woot. You know my first name. WTFever.