Today, my son turns three years old.
Crazy Little Man was born in Luxembourg less than 3 months before we left the Grand Duchy. However, his was anything but a normal arrival in the world. We found out that we were going to be parents again at Ramstein AFB in Germany while our friend, Eurochini, was visiting. Shortly afterwards Lovely Little Girl, not yet age 2, locked my wife in her bedroom and Lovely English Lass had to abseil down the side of the wall with sheets tied together and crawl in through a basement window to get back into the house. He was fine. Then, the doctors started doing ultra-sounds and thought he might have down's syndrome or worse. It got to the point where doctors, in a very Catholic country, were discussing with us the possibility of an abortion. Scary, right? Turns out he was fine. All through the pregnancy the doctors kept being worried, but it always turned out to be nothing.
Since then, he's lived in three different countries (counting Lux) and started to develop his own little personality. He loves sports, but doesn't seem to understand most of them. He wants to play golf and cricket and tennis, but can't seem to stop hitting people with the bat, club or racket. He loves the movie Cars, and seems to really like Spider-Man. He joins his dad watching Phineas and Ferb, and it is hilarious listening to him say, in a deep voice, "Thwart me Perry the Platypus!" He can name the alter-egos of a surprising number of superheroes, and lately has started calling himself Bebe. (Like he's a French Frank Sinatra reincarnated or something.) He likes to jump off everything, and has perfected the art of acting like he's hurt and blaming his sister (even when she's not in the room). His superhero alter-ego is Zack the Train, and his finishing move on bad guys is the piston-punch and then shunting them into walls. He doesn't yet seem to know if he's a big boy or a baby. His favorite football (soccer) player is Scott Parker, and I can't be mad at him about that. He knows Brad Freidel plays goal and that Sheffield United are The Blades.
He's also an attention hog when he goes out into public. Women everywhere fall all over him and his big blue eyes and straw colored hair. When we go to a restaurant with a play area, all of the watchers pay attention to him to the detriment of the other kids. (This really does happen.) He stares at women until the look at him, and then looks away shyly. This ensures that they are forever in his power.
Crazy Little Man can be the most charming and most infuriating kid you'll ever meet. One minute he's throwing food, and the next saying that Daddy is his superhero.
He's definitely the Robin to my Batman or the Sundance to my Butch Cassidy. But he can also be the Joker to my Batman or the LeFours to my Butch Cassidy. One day I hope he and I will have the relationship that my father and I have. Right now he's my Crazy Little Man and I couldn't be happier for that. Happy birthday Bebe.
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