It's a little guy's birthday today

Jonathan was born seven years ago today. It was a Monday. It was a crazy day. Lucy rang at 6 am to tell me, "I have a son." Dad had to leave for Heathrow aiport shortly after to catch a flight home to Saudi Arabia. Mum arrived home from the hospital later in the morning. I remember helping her make the bed, we were in a bit of a daze, and she called me auntie for the first time. We made a dash to Mothercare to buy little person clothes - I couldn't believe how tiny the socks were - and at 3pm that afternoon I held my little friend for the first time.
I wasn't prepared for a little baby to come into my life. It meant complete upheaval at home, and truly, the flat - actually my whole life - has never been the same since. He looked like me. People used to stop the three of us in the street and tell my sister she had such a gorgeous little nephew. It’s the dark hair. We match. We spent four years together before I moved to New York. We had wonderful adventures, especially Barceloooona.

Now he’s seven. He’s the smartest kid in his class/school/county/the universe. He says prayers that could part the Red Sea if he so needed. He’s interested in everything: astronomy, history, trains, teletubbie custard. He talks about them all, without ever stopping for air. And most importantly – finally something we can take credit for – he knows his family loves him and he’s a happy, secure little boy.

Happy Birthday Jonathan!!