Syd is sixteen today. We celebrated yesterday with lunch at Fenton’s, presents, and the dinner of his choice at home (which was, oddly enough, fish tacos, mashed potatoes, and turtle swirl cheesecake. I promised he could have whatever he wanted, so I made it cheerfully and it worked well enough.). This morning, T. and I woke him with a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. Tonight, he gets to go out to dinner with his dad and T.

I am feeling, of course, nostalgic, for the days when Syd was little, days when I would read picture book after picture book, when we adventured around the neighborhood, when we painted and built with blocks.

As I watched his back, heavy book bag slung across it, trudge into school this morning, I realized I am just as happy in these days with the fine man he is growing into.