Dad was thrilled that you were a boy. We all were. At least, I think I was. Not sure but I can envision myself hands clasped behind my back, pacing the shiny hospital floors, eyes scanning my immediate surroundings for things that could muffle a cry or just breathing in general. I enjoyed my status as The Baby for those few years. But, my heart was big. I let you in.
You grew in stature and most notably in head size and circumference. You resembled the leaning tower of Pisa as you waddled around in your nappies.
I think Dr. Seuss might have had this to say about your toddler noggin:
Whether he went here or there or anywhere
His bulbous balloon was sure to lead
Hop, skip, shuffle, popple
Plum down to the ground he'd topple
Oh, the crashing and bumping, ruckus and clunking!
A mother laments and wails 'til she's spent
"Why can't you stand straight and tall as a pine?
Why must your head be so large by design?"
Of all the magnanimous monstrosities to be hadWe have countless home videos of you running down sidewalks and into *traffic, chasing after "vroom-vrooms" which consisted of motorcycles and cars, but mainly you loved tractors, especially Kubotas. I have this engraved image of you in my mind sitting in a tractor seat, pot belly sticking out of your waistband, sucking on your thumb, happy as a clam. You loved big machinery.
A head so large was bad for the lad
Shimity lou and skitty do da
I'll keep my day job and continue to blog
Now you're a man and could easily grind me into a fine pulp-mist, but you don't and I really, really like that about you. I don't just speak for myself when I say that I am very proud of the man you have become and am very excited to see what is in store for you, big-little brother.
Happy Birthday to you, Bucky. I love you.
*Dad was awarded "Father of the Year."