On the 8th, John Paul turned four. BUT, he told everyone who asked that he was still three...until he blew out the candles on the cake that evening.
The candles on the monkey bread were just a trial run.
Feast of the Immaculate Conception, so we're always treated to Mass on his birthday. After naps, we had a little party with a few things I thought were a bit John Paul-ish: fedoras, crazy teeth, funny glasses and mustaches.
In fact, when I wasn't looking, I saw him get a second (huge!) piece of cake right out of the middle like it was no big deal. Yes, I let him eat it.
But, he had a great birthday! When you're four, that birthday can be made a little sour by a well-check with three shots. Jeremy had to take him this time, and when I asked how it went, the conversation went something like this:
Me: Well, how did it go?
Jeremy: It's a little tough to take the pants off of a kid who is screaming and running in place.
John Paul: And, you have to watch out or you might get your finger bit!
Me: John Paul, did you bite Daddy?
John Paul: Nah, I just scratched him this time.
I died laughing.
John Paul is our firecracker. He...
...loves to make others laugh.
...takes the best care of his little siblings, and claims this next one is all his.
...has a sensitive little soul.
...seems to never get tired.
...is in the 50th percentile for height and 75th for weight for his age.
...weighs 38 pounds.
...loves to help out.
...is rarely quiet.
...has the cutest little chuckle.
...loves the color blue, bubble gum, his giraffe blanket and "just one more piece" of candy.
...runs like the wind.
...brightens any room.
...and is sheer joy.
Happy birthday, sweet boy.