The power of Christ compels you, Rory. The power of Christ compels you.
Ten months ago I was working at MGM, 10-6. I was 28 years old and I enjoyed a nice steak from time to time. Today I’m working at MGM, 10-6, I’m 29 years old and I enjoy a steak once a week. Ten months ago you were half your size, unable to move, barely able to blink, teet suckling little pinkies (pinkies are what they call the baby mice you feed to snakes, FYI). Today you are both tipping the scales into the 20 pound zone; you eat solid foods, you feed yourselves, you drink apple juice, you crawl at high speeds and, our newest feature, you stand for what seems like minutes. You are, for all intents and purposes, people.
Quinn is dancing. Yes, dancing. You’ll be casually standing or sitting, examining some new specimen of dust bunny you’ve just discovered and we’ll punch on the radio and BANG! you are moving and shaking. It starts with your shoulders; a little back and forth sway and then you’ll begin pumping your fists AND if you have something to lean against you’ll even bend your knees and shake your butt. It’s really quite impressive. Maybe you really DO have a penchant for music and will grow up to play the kettle drum on a Jamaican beach……either that or be a very successful gangsta rapper, bringing your roots and streetwise sensibilities from Van Nuys to your lyrics.
Rory, you seem to have recently discovered that “Might Makes Right”, a personal trait that your mother and I are working to course correct. Remember, just because you outweigh your sister by 10 pounds and are an entire head taller than her, does not mean you should bulldoze her over, steal her toys and shove her dinner in your meaty gob. Perhaps we have a cage fighter or, dare I say, hope beyond hope, a professional bear wrestler in our presence?
Still no words…lots of SOUNDS and even lots of sounds that sound like WORDS….but no real words. Maybe Da-Da….maybe…but I feel like it’s more dah-dah… in the sense of doo-whop-dee-doo and less in the way of “Dad” or “Father” or, as I will command you call me, “Sir”.
I’m excited to see what the rest of the year brings and the second year of your life, or, as I like to call it, “The Sequel”. I have a feeling our group of rag tag misfits will be going on many adventures in the coming months, banding together to fight off evil trolls, creating fortresses in our living room to hide from the pirates and escaping in spaceships or runaway trains, both of which happen to look like an old cardboard box.
You keep us excited.