You know, there's something mighty special about turning 5. So special that everyone, EVERYONE he runs into hears about how he's five. The cashier at the grocery store, the front desk at the Y, visitors at church. "I'm five now." He has also decided being five means he's responsible and helpful on his own without being asked. He keeps saying' I can do that, I'm five'. He has told our neighbors no less than a dozen times that he's five. They know. Out of town family happen to call and he tells them too, "I'm' five." They know. We all know. He keeps reminding us. We know.
If this is what age 5 brings, I love it.
True to his very favorite things, he got a John Deere pickup with cows to haul, a combine, 2 John Deere tractors, John Deere puzzles, some John Deere shirts and cow shirts that are bigger than size 4, so will fit for a bit. Plus overalls. He loves overalls. Most talked about gifts? John Deere sheets and a "just my size" pitchfork. So he can scoop manure, of course. He tells everyone about those two gifts in particular. Thankful for grandparents who embrace who he is and get him the farming stuff that makes him smile so so so big.
And thankful for his menu. Easier than it could be. PBJ. Chips and dip. Grapes. Apple cider. Apple crisp (no cake, just crisp. Just his favorites.
Most of all, we're thankful he's five and will be for a whole year. Happy age 5, Adrian.