Nick is nine

He shares a birthday with Francis Scott Key and Herman Melville. I doubt he cares. [Edited to add, also with Jerry Garcia and William Clark, of Lewis & Clark fame. That last one, he cares about.]

I don't remember much about the night and early morning he was born (not even the time!), but I do remember the sandwich I ate before I went into labor. A cheese columbo from Copolla's Italian deli. Mmm. It was a great sandwich and we went for a walk afterwards--Mariah was with her grandmother, on her way to a wedding--and then to the hospital. They told me things didn't look too promising but it was my due date and it was hot and I'd already had two false alarms and I was tired of being pregnant so they agreed to let me come in. Less than twelve hours later I had Nick in my arms.

Today he'll have presents and then go to his camp. As on the day he was born, Mariah has a previous engagement tonight, but we'll celebrate this evening anyway--with a National Night Out party on the block, moonbounce and all. Happy Birthday, Nick!