Dear Owen,

Your birthday was a few days ago, and sometimes I like to write you little letters on your birthdays to talk about…my feelings and stuff.

I’m going to be honest.  You were a pain in the ass for most of your 3rd year.  Take the above photo for instance.  We were remodeling your bathroom, so the toilet was on the deck for a few weeks.  You decided to drop trou and shit in it in the middle of dinner with no semblance of remorse.  And what’s up with all those fucking band-aids?  You realize those are for actual injuries, right?  This picture pretty much summed up your behavior for the past 12 months.

But all that changes now that you’re 4.  Unless you want to be dropped off at Daisy Hill Puppy Farm for the rest of your life, that is.

On Saturday, we made you a cake.

And by “we,” I mean “your mother.”

We bought you a bike!

And by “we,” I mean “I.”  And one of those plastic things for  your head that I never wore as a child!  You rode and rode and rode in circles in the driveway until we took you to the zoo.

One day when you’re old, you’ll wonder what you might have looked like as a meerkat.  You’re welcome.

You tamed a wild beast.

And lured 3 chicks to your love nest.

Clearly, your words captivated.

You had a good day.

Now that a few days have passed since your turning 4, I’m pleased to report some immediate behavioral improvements. You’re getting up fewer than 10 times after I put you to bed.  With the exception of tonight, you haven’t removed all your clothes and run toward a neighbor’s house once since turning 4 on Saturday!  And, there hasn’t been a single inappropriate pooping incident.

I think this is the Year of the Boy.  Bring it.

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  1. I think parents of 4-year-olds should join together to create an “It Gets Better” video. My boy was terrible as a 3-year-old, which was shocking to me, because I believed in the Terrible Twos myth (and thought we were just lucky because we had a good 2-year-old).

    My boy is now four-and-a-half, as he insists on saying, and I won’t say it’s perfect, but I can tell you he hasn’t told me he hated me for over a year. Which is something.

  2. Gotta to be better than the Year of the Dad Blogger. Happy day. little ‘skrat.

  3. Whatever, dude. Kid is YOUR son. Which means he’s going to piss in the neighbor’s rose bush when he’s, like, 15.


    You are so screwed, Muskrat.

  4. I love that boy. Even when he’s an asshole.

  5. Aw, he’s adorable. Four is so much fun!

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