Benny Boy

Some people say that Friday the 13th is unlucky. They are wrong. Today is Friday the 13th, as well as my son Ben’s birthday. It’s totally a lucky day! I can’t believe it’s been 28th years since my first brush with childbirth. Ben came out with a pointy head, but I loved him anyway. I told him he was born with a pencil in his hand, and boy did it hurt. Ok, I lied about the pencil but he was born with some crazy drawing skills. When my dad passed away, Ben was six. He drew a picture of a lady angel so my dad wouldn’t be lonely in Heaven. Touching, sweet, thoughtful, and the angel even had lady lips. We were best buds for 2 1/2 years. Then, Ben got a sister. For the first 4 months of Molly’s life, Ben refused to speak to me. He was pissed! Finally, one day, he asked if we couldn’t please send her back where she came from.  I said nope, she was here to stay. After that, Ben started speaking to me again. I guess he was resigned to having The Interloper around for good. Ben was a pretty easy-going child. He had agility and great balance as a toddler, but that didn’t transfer over into sports. His few brushes with athletics in school ended up with Ben getting beaned or knocked down by a ball. His interest wasn’t in sports anyway. His creative mind took him to more interesting places than a stinky old ball field. I remember watching Ben in the outfield of a tee ball game. Kids rarely hit the ball at all, and for sure not out to where Ben was. He wasn’t even paying attention though. I’m pretty sure he was making a movie, or perhaps a music video in his head. It was more fun watching him just being him. Today, Ben and Molly are friends. I’m pretty sure he no longer wishes her to the cornfield. His drawing skills have taken him to cartoon school and back, making some wonderful friendships along the way. He is on the road to becoming a comic book legend... I’m sure of it. He’s got talent from the bottom of his size 13 feet to the tippy top of his formerly pointy head. Happy Birthday, Benny!