I was there the day Ryan was born, the day he arrived on scene all red and wet and squishy. I was there when he hit himself in the face with a golf club, when Power Ranger underwear were just what he'd always wanted, when his goal in life was to ride a snowboard.
It's funny, talking to him now. It's like talking to someone in a suit, carrying a briefcase; someone you're sure you've got typed and completely figured out. And then when you part on the sidewalk, the man does his best not to step on your shadow, and you realize that everyone has a secret life--not just the ones you'd expect. He's figuring things out and, I suspect, laughing at us all up his sleeves.
Today he's 13. Happy Birthday, Ubs!
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