the birthday boy: a bedtime story

susanna and liam, you both love bedtime stories so much that i thought i'd compose one myself, just for you. 

once upon a time in a small village called asheville, a sweet baby prince was born.  let's call him ... let's call him liam.  he was bald headed and blue-eyed and chunky and perfect.  he walked late and talked even later and don't get me started on how long it took to potty-train him ... but he brought a huge smile to the faces of everyone he met.  soon, all of the kingdom was smitten by this prince.

by the time he was five, prince liam had become a truly amazing big boy.  he had a smattering of freckes across his nose and cheeks, those same gorgeous blue eyes, and, according to his hairdresser, evidence that a cow at some point had licked him something good.  (it took his family a while to figure out that what she meant was cowlicks.) 

his chunky body had slimmed down quite a bit because of how constantly active he was -- there was no sport he didn't like, and he was good at them all.  (the one thing he was not good at was losing ... Lord have mercy, his tantrums and fits were legendary ... but that's a story for another day.) 

prince liam's motto was, if you don't like something, then don't do it.  to this end, he became the master of tuning out things he didn't want to hear, like reminders to make his bed or put his dirty clothes in the hamper or stop running around the house like a crazy person.  but, on the other hand, he believed that if you like something, you should LOVE it.  become enraptured by it.  live and breathe it.  and that's just what he did, every day of his young life.  golf, soccer, his encyclopedia, boogie boarding, world geography, addition and subtraction, scrabble, the monkey bars on the playground ... he became passionate about a wide variety of interests, devoting countless hours to these pursuits.

liam was also an older brother, to a fair princess named, oh, let's name her susanna.  he was kind, protective, and loving to her, but most of all, he was her best friend.  her eyes would light up whenever he entered the room, and she felt lost without him near.  they would spend most of their waking hours with each other, coming up with elaborate games, inventive artwork and sculptures, and creative songs and dances.  they would dissolve into fits of laughter, finding things amusing that their parents couldn't figure out.  they had private jokes and whispered secrets and a love all their own.

liam's family adored him so.  but as his sixth birthday approached, he noticed that his mother (we'll call her queen sara), who happened to be the most wise and beautiful and patient and kind and -- what?  get on with it?  oh.  sorry.  i tend to get carried away with queen sara.  anyway, liam found his mother teary one day, so he climbed into her lap and asked her what was wrong.

"i just can't believe you're so old," she told him.  "i remember holding you in that hospital bed for the very first time, staring down at your face and feeling your heart beat through your chest.  and now, you're turning six.  SIX!  you're about to leave me.  you're headed off to kindergarten and will be riding that big yellow school bus home.  i'm going to miss you terribly!"

he patted his mother's knee and smiled.  with wisdom beyond his years, he said, "i'm ready, mommy.  you and daddy have done lots of things with me and i know that i'm going to be okay.  i've spent six years with you at home, but i think it's time that i go to real school and learn some new stuff."  he paused.  "but i wonder if there's anything i still need to learn?"

and his mommy laughed, for prince liam could always make any bad situation better.  and as they celebrated liam's sixth birthday, she and king chris looked at the boy they were raising -- their sweet, sensitive, bright, happy, athletic, fun-loving boy -- and felt, as they always did, immensely blessed.

and they lived happily ever after.