Saturday is #1’s birthday. (Yay!) He was very kind to his mother on the day he was born. Only weighed 5 pounds and 13 ounces–and born on his due date.
When he was little, every time he’d see an exit sign, he’d say, “Exit. The way out.”
The kid was a product of Sesame Street. Not that it’s a bad thing.
Bert and Ernie, a couple of his close friends, introduced him to Big Bird, who in turn brought Cookie Monster to the group. Even Oscar the Grouch wasn’t left out.
We even went to a play park near Dallas once that was all Sesame Street stuff. DH was in Dallas on business so #1 and I had a lot of free time, so when I stumbled across Sesame World (I think was the name) I was ecstatic!
I took a picture of #1 in Oscar’s can. We met Big Bird. He played in a clear plastic jungle gyn. We swung on ropes and had healthy food for lunch. And #1 ate it! (He never ate much.)
#1 was a real ham, and came by it naturally. When swimming (him in a life jacket, me in my natural floaties) he suddenly rolled onto his back, close his eyes and let his tongue droop out of his mouth.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I’m a dead rabbit.” Pretty funny for a two-year-old.
We went on a 5 day ski trip with my cousins from Texas, and for two weeks afterward, #1 spoke with a Texas accent. I finally told him he couldn’t go the next time the cousins went with us if he didn’t quit.
I took him to market with me (to buy clothes for our dress shop) and he’d get bored. “Let’s see how many steps to the next appointment,” I’d tell him, then whisper numbers in his ear as we went from showroom to showroom. By the time he was 18 months old, he could count to twenty. And he knew all his colors.
When he started kindergarten, I asked the teacher if he talked a lot in class. She answered, “Yes, but that usually just means his mother talked to him a lot.”
Ha! Little did she know with #1, it meant he thought he was smarter than the teacher. And he probably was. 
In grade school, when he took the Iowa test, he made the highest score ever received in his school. And much to his dismay, he was put in a class for smart kids once a week.
He loved the class. But the hateful way his regular teachers treated him while in their classes was enough to make him determined to never let anyone know how smart he was again.
Rather than give him his assignments for the day he was out for the other class at the beginning of the week, as the accelerated learning teacher had told us, he was handed a list on his way out the door. And even though the “smart” teacher said he’d only have to do enough to be sure he kept up with the other kids, he had to do everything they took all day to do THAT NIGHT.
It’s amazing how very stupid a teacher can be. Not all teachers, but a few resentful, narrow minded, b.o. reeking ones can ruin a child.
About that time he broke his arm playing bumper cars with his brothers’ big wheels while riding one like a scooter. When we asked him how he did it, he lied. “I bumped into a rock.”
After high school graduation, a friend gave him a golden retriever for a present. He lied again and told us that he found it in the road and couldn’t stand to think it might get run over. He named the dog Boone. After he quit chewing the sprinkler system pipes off the house we actually fell in love with him, too.
I even named the hero in my first book Boone after him.
All our kids have a wonderful sense of humor, and #1 is no exception. He keeps his father laughing out loud whenever they’re together.
Told you he was a ham
He’s married now to my favorite (and only) daughter-in-law (I honestly like her a lot.) They don’t have children YET, but they have a house full of critters. Three cats and three dogs at last count.
And yes, the golden retriever is leader of the pack.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DANNY!
Be glad.
= Sneet.
China and Danny at McNellie’s last weekend.
Matt and Christina on Danny’s birthday.
Danny, Nicole and Brad–checking out the menu.