Sunday, September 13, 2009

Three

Someone once said that whoever coined the phrase "Terrible Twos" never had a three-year old. As of yesterday, I made my official entrance into the "Trying Threes."

try⋅ing

–adjective: extremely annoying, difficult, or the like; straining one's patience and goodwill to the limit: a trying day; a trying experience.

Enough said.

My post-birthday celebration has involved a series of nuclear-style meltdowns, including screaming, kicking, biting, and foaming at the mouth. I am serious about the foam.

In spite of the massive temper tantrums, I've had a wonderful three years. How does one describe my three-year existence? Outdoor enthusiast. Stand-up comedian. Master orator. Candy connoisseur. Imagination Mover. Book worm. Big brother. Independent thinker. Amateur fire fighter. Truck savant. Unrivaled debater. Certified goofball. Cat nemesis. Charming friend.

Apple of mama's eye? Most definitely.

Happy Birthday Me!

Love,

Weston

1 comments:

John said...

Weston,
I know that you had a great time at your birthday party...Your Mom did a beautiful job baking the cupcakes...They seem to match the color of you fireman hat...Did you make a wish before you blew out the candles on the cake? I hope you enjoy your "guitar"...Practice a lot so you can be a rock star...Love you...Papa