Six!!!!!

 Our beloved Little Man turns 6 today. If there is a more adored kindergartner, I don't know who he is. I think his Dad is dropping him off at school, and at some point D1 will appear with cupcakes. The family will celebrate Saturday, and luckily D1 has a Jupiter party early, so I can watch the Canes playoff game at A and M. We'll gather afterwards to sing around a cake. For Little Man -- the cake is the reason for the season.

Ah, the day of his birth -- we got a call VERY early, and mustered at Holtz Children's Hospital. The top doc there, Chief Medical Officer, also known as Tio Barry, rushed in as well -- to make sure his niece of another mother was treated like royalty. She was. A healthy, chubby boy was delivered by C section. We were, all of us, over the moon.

A Peds hospitalist came in to check on him -- surfer dude looking fellow Barry knew for years. Joey freaked to see how he handled the newborn with less tenderness than Joey thought -- we all knew that they ARE tougher than people think. D1 was in a LOT of pain from the baby-ectomy, but still nursed him well. After a few days, they took him home to a house with a furry spoiled Spaniel sister -- a new chapter had begun. 

I loved him, of course, as I loved his baby brother who came a few years later, but I had a sense of something. As a Grandpa, the REAL deal would come as he got older -- and it did. Around 4 or so, I knew Little Man's personality. As he turns 6 today, I know him VERY well, and unsurprisingly, I'm one of his favorites.

For good or bad, he is a LOT like me -- smart, sweet, and, as the Spanish speakers say, picaro -- sort of charmingly devilish. He has already learned he can get away with a LOT with humor and charm. I hope to teach him to use this superpower for good, and not evil. Senator or CEO would be great. Bernie Madoff not great....

Meanwhile, Channuka is upon us -- tonight is the 4th night. It came right after a terrible terrorist attack in Sydney -- but with a ray of light of hope. As the lowlifes were shooting Jews at the beach, a Syrian Muslim man tackled one of the pigs, and disarmed him -- getting shot in the legs by the Keystone Kop-like Aussie police. Thankfully, the hero survived, and will now be lauded, rightfully, as a hero. But he KNEW he was risking his life to save the lives of others not of his own tribe. Maybe we Yumans, as Wifey pronounces us, do have a chance after all.

Also, Festivus is near -- the exquisite fake holiday from the show "Seinfeld." My favorite tradition from that is the "Airing of Grievances" -- so astute about the state of society.

Recently, I got some emails from folks doing just that -- nothing will change - but they want "the record to show" blah blah blah.

We all need to vent -- it's healthy. And I guess venting is the reason for the Festivus season.

So Miriam, our housekeeper is coming soon. Back when I worked, I always made sure it was Wednesday, to get out of her way. Now that our office is my home, that's over. Wifey is headed out for a hair coloring pre-cruise, and some manner of back injection.

I'm thinking I may head over to UM -- classes are out of session, so there'll be plenty of parking. Maybe lunch at the new Rathskellar, and a LOOONG walk through the memories -- reflecting on how I strolled those lovely paths in 1979, as an 18 year old freshman just figuring out what it was to be a grown up, and now, as a 64 year old abuelo of 2 -- still sort of figuring out what it is to be an old man.

I'll go to a favorite spot by Lake Osceola -- not really a lake -- just a fat part of a canal -- and thank the Big Man for Little Man's 6 years with our band. We sure do love that boy.