No, G-Pa’s not teaching you new math. Twelve does equal one when you count in months. This weekend, we all celebrated your first birthday—an event you won’t recall, but one worth recording.
Your Big Pappi flew in from Hawaii, your Uncle Brian and Aunt Jenny drove down from Davis, and your godmother journeyed from the slopes of Beaver Creek to join your godfather Kyle (and Sydney), your parents, your caregiver Karima, Mimi and me, and several more friends ranging in age from their sixties to newborn just to celebrate you.
We gathered at Power House Park in Del Mar under May-gray skies, but the clouds didn’t darken your fun. Your parents let you enjoy the day as you saw fit: swinging, playing in the sand, watching pelicans fly in formation overhead, romping from one person to the next, opening your gifts, skipping your nap (yay!) and, of course, enjoying a birthday treat—your own cupcake.
We had a great time and, based on all your smiles and laughing, we think you did, too. Happy First Birthday, dear grandson.