Ya gotta love kids

Especially mine.

I had a birthday this past weekend and was able to fly home for it. This is probably the first time that I've been home on my birthday in a few years.

I don't really feel birthdays carry any particular significance in life. True - they mark the date of your birth. And? This is worth signifying why, exactly?

I know, I know... you are another year older. So what?! The day before and the day after... do they carry any great meaning for you? Didn't think so.

"But it's my birthday!"... I hear you saying. "The anniversary of my birth!"

Yeah... I guess I'm not real big on anniversaries, either. Ask my wife. Or my ex-wife, for that matter. Not that that's the reason that she's my ex, but I guess you never know.

The whole age thing has never had a lot of meaning to me. 18. 21. 30. 40. 50. I remember my 40th 'cause Theresa took me to a go-kart track with some of my friends. We had a lot of fun that night. I don't remember any of the other benchmark birthdays. (And no... it's not because I am becoming senile in my old age.) (Well... maybe a little.)

I guess I just don't see age as being pertinent to most situations. Certainly, you can be older and wiser. In fact, I think that I am perhaps a touch wiser than I used to be. But I have seen many young people think circles around their elders.

So there you go. My thoughts on age and aging.

So... what's this got to do with loving kids? Glad you asked.

On Saturday, I woke up to children sprawled around the bed with Theresa and me somewhere in the pile. They greeted my with a bright and cheery "Happy Birthday Daddy!" So I wished them all a happy birthday too.

Then came the gifts. Mattea gave me a gift bag that contained a box that she had made for me from wrapping paper. Well not really a box. Kind of like the bottom of a shirt or blouse gift box that you might get from a department store, but without the top. That was my gift... there was nothing in the box. And she hand made a lovely card for me.

The boys had combined their efforts, as they do with many things. They found an old Bitty Baby box, or some box that held a toy of some sort at some point in their childhood history, and colored in portions of the exterior design and wrapped it with a ribbon. But by the time I actually got to it to open it, the ribbon had disappeared.

"Here's your present, Daddy!"

So I opened the box, and inside I found a clear bouncy ball with stars in it, a bath toy, some markers and a stuffed rhino, which they've had for quite some time. In fact, they have had all of these toys for quite some time. I think they were dumping all of the things that they no longer wanted into this box, and making a gift of them to me.

Ya gotta love kids.