Looking back at someone’s first year of life is sort of a tricky business.
If the person isn’t your kid, well, let’s face it: you might die of boredom, there is no one on Earth who loves to write or read about a kid more than the ones who helped create them.
Then, coming in a very distant second, are the rest of the people in the world who basically could care less about your baby pictures and your verbal coo’s.
Still, it has to be done, huh? It’s almost like some kind of grown-up right of passage, to gloat about your little one’s first this and that.
So, here’s me. Here’s mine.
Here’s my sweeping mega-chronicle of my son Henry’s very first year. His first year of the down and dirty, his first days and weeks of oxygen and bear hugs and eating the dark dirt right from the flower pot of life down here on Earth.
Henry turned one year old this past week and so, like any other dad worth his weight in swampy diapers, I’m so proud of how far my little buddy has come that I am gonna throw caution to the wind here and force-feed you yet another first chapter of a little boy’s life.
Except, that it’s my son.
The greatest Super Hero mankind has ever known.
You can also find Serge on his personal blog, Thunder Pie.