Trailhead Kid has a birthday

Holy cow, he's four freakin' years old. The baby boy who covered his bits with his hands so the ultrasound tech couldn't tell what we were having, this little dude who landed in my life and complicated everything, this baby who had visited 26 states before his second birthday, is now a little boy. I don't know quite what to do with that, but I imagine it's a little easier than what has befallen my parents. They've just had their youngest turn 36.

He's getting a bike this evening. It's red. Mr. T and I stood, mouths agape, staring at it last night.