It's hard to believe that my baby brother turned seven today. A year ago, I wrote him his first birthday blog post - appropriately entitled "Six." I wrote about how he loved the Backstreet Boys & the Beatles, how he could fit into my t-shirts, how he was obsessed with his perfectly combed hair style, how he learned to read road signs. Most of those things have remained - except for his hair care routine. But the most important thing from that blog post was when I said "happy birthday to my favorite little boy in the world." Those words still hold true except perhaps, he's my favorite boy, not little boy, in the world.
This year... Aiden fell in love with Ninjago, finally stopped wearing all camouflage, let us buy him toys other than army men, learned to play xbox, began first grade, started reading kid's chapter books, didn't stop eating Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, lost his first teeth, wore his hair with a rat-tail, became obsessed with legos, learned to love sleepovers at his sister's apartment and did all the other things that smelly, sticky, six year olds boys do.
But now he's seven.
(And we hope that means an end to being smelly and sticky.)
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