We celebrated The Baby’s 13th birthday this past weekend. His actual birthday is February 29, 2008, so until 2024, he will celebrate fake birthdays.  I prefer to celebrate on February 28, since he was born in February.  This year, he wants a new computer desk.  He has a perfectly good, L-shaped computer desk; however, Santa thought it would be a great idea to fulfill The Baby’s dream of duel monitors to go with the special gaming computer that The Baby and The Baby’s Daddy built together. Yes, I did just say that. Or typed it. Whatever. So now, The Baby’s desk is extremely crowded and I must say that he does need a new one.

I found several desks online. Baby’s Daddy was quick to show my why none of them would work in Baby’s room.  I was quick to anger. I am still looking.

It just so happens that The Baby is one of our easier children to please.  He wanted BBQ for supper. Done.  He wanted The Middle Child to make him her homemade angel food cake. Done.  He is our “no frills” kid.  His godmother gave him a Nike sweatshirt that he picked out, and I bought him some Nike sweatpants and a stress ball kit.  “Why?” said Mini Me, “because he is under sooooo much stress? He was 12 yesterday.”  I said, “NO. MiMi gave him a skeleton head stress ball a while back and when you squeezed it, the eyes popped out. It recently exploded. I thought he might like to make his own.”  Mini Me shrugged. He is most definitely not our “no frills” kid, but he doesn’t really care for gadgety items.

The Baby’s best buddy Joe came over to eat with us.  He would have missed out, had I not come to from my daily comatose state and remembered that I had invited him.  It was around 4:30.  I texted his mother and said OMG! I forgot about JOE! Can he still come over??? She brought him over.  The Baby and Joe have been friends since birth.  They are 3 weeks apart.   We have always likened them to Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito in the old movie “Twins”, only this year, The Baby grew a true 5 inches taller and has really widened the gap.

13 is just different for boys.  I am sitting here in my room, writing this post.  I just heard The Baby whisper “oh shit” to his computer friends in his room across the hall. I’m not quite sure what that means exactly. Well, maybe I do. I suppose it means only one thing for me, and that is OH SHIT.