My little friend Nate has a little brother named Colin.
Colin is a cute, very precocious cotton-haired (with a cowlick, even!) ball of energy. His voice is a mixture of deep, raspy tones and little boy words. When he talks, his little mouth always cocks up in a crooked smile. He is one happy little dude, and is really funny. Colin came by my office Tuesday, along with his mom and big brother, Nate. As soon as he saw me, he promptly told me that it was his last day to be four years old.
Janie: “Really? Wow! So tomorrow, Colin, you’re going to be five?”
Janie: “Woohoo, Colin! Give me five!”
Colin’s Mom: “Colin, honey, that’s not right. Today, you’re five years old.”
Colin: “No, Mom - I’m not five yet, I haven’t had my birthday party!”
Colin's Mom and I look at each other in wonder...then, understanding dawns.
Tuesday night, Colin’s birthday was celebrated. Having been let in on the gist of the conversation the same morning, Colin’s dad asked Colin how old he was.
Colin, exasperated: “Dad, don't you know??!! I’m five years old!”
You guessed it. Colin's official turning of age was all about the party.