How is it, Little Man, that you are seven? Wasn't it just yesterday it was just the two of us, playing in the California sunshine, and now here you are, a big kid, and the oldest of our tribe? Every time I look at pictures from last year I think how little you looked then, and how much older you look now. Maybe I'll always think that.
You still love Star Wars, you still love legos, and above all, you still love playing with friends. You're handsome, you're smart and you're honest. But do you know what I think I admire most about you? Your good heart.
You battle injustice. You are worried about those less fortunate than you. You are gentle to animals. And you love your mom, and still let me kiss you in public.
Happy Birthday, Oscy.
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