Lights don't impress him, anymore.
It's all about the cars and computers.
Today is Mitchell's sixteenth birthday.
I think that's right. Sixteen??? I think I'm having a panic attack.
I knew I was getting old, but to say Mitch is sixteen just breaks my heart! My little poomonger is old!
Mitch was born into our family at the perfect time. Marcus was just growing out of the "cute little snuggly kid" and my cousin Jill and I were entering the "we love babies!" phase in life. So this baby was doted on, to say the least.
It's more like he had his own personal slaves. Mitch never had to walk when he came to visit Grandma. Jill and I would trade off hauling him around the house.
On one Christmas visit, Mitch was totally fascinated with Christmas lights. Every few minutes, he would remember there were lights in the trees and run to the window to point it out to us and yell "Yights!" Mitch hadn't quite learned his Ls.
Even better, Mitch found he could use his personal slaves to hold him next to a light switch. He would turn the lights off, then back on and scream "Yights!" He really did have the cutest little voice. Especially when he was excited.
And that was all sixteen years ago? Really?
Happy Birthday, Mitch!