Moose Day

You guys, I prepped this post ages ago but had no words and honestly the truth is: I still have no words. My baby is five, y’all. He turned five back in October, in fact.

So the weekend before his birthday we celebrated the dude: took him to his latest favoritest place in the world (Chuck E. Cheese).

Followed by a chaser of Chinese buffet. He’s never had Chinese buffet in his life, but he was so fascinated so we went for it and he loved it.

This kid is so hard to figure out, you guys. He’s so loud and crazy but he’s introverted and craves solitude. How do I deal with this? He’s such a handful and so much work and completely mind-boggling. I feel like my parents are laughing at this because he’s the same enigma I served to them on a silver platter.

ANYWAY. That birthday snuck up on us way too fast but we dealt with it and when the actual real day arrived we decorated and got him one of those super trendy giant balloons again.

We made him Trader Joes chocolate croissants.

(Listen: these ice cream cones are still in my basement they are super cute but also super-hard to put away for storage so if anyone out there wants me to send them these things, hit me up…).

He is a fried-chicken junkie, which is weird because we never have it, because I never make it, because fried chicken is an artfully mastered skill that I just cannot figure out (if you want quality fried chicken, hit up my sister Beah). But I mean hey: thank goodness for KFC.

(He is also fascinated by tattoo sleeves so I let him put on a bunch of temporary tattoos for his birthday, except they weren’t so temporary and it took several attempts at scrubbing them off in the bathtub, for over a month. Ope.)

Aside from fried chicken, he’s still super into emergency vehicles, so Pete and I made him an emergency vehicle cake.

Bros.

I mean and I guess that’s it, you guys. I am almost four months late posting this and I still have to hesitate for a second telling people that he’s Five, not Four, like seriously though why does time go by so quickly?

Happy Fives, Moosey. You continue to be a tough nut to crack, and as infuriating as that is I also love that so much. Maybe I’ll have you figured out by the time you’re sixty.