Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections, children tend to be sticky.
Happy Birthday to the child who made me a mother for the first time, the child who reminds me simultaneously who was in charge and what REALLY matters, the child who constantly leaves me trying to be a better person for him.
My first son, Benjamin Maxwell.
He may not always like me, hell, I may not always like him, but in the end, he knows which side his bread is buttered on.
Happy Birthday, Small Fry.