one more sleep…

Only one more sleep until The Boy is officially one year older.

Which means one more sleep until he stops going on about me being an old woman (at least for another 6 months). Yes, I’m 6 months older than him, which he likes to tease me about. To hear him talk, you’d think I was 60 years older. Older and wiser, I like to say.

I think he’ll like his presents – if not I’ll just have to keep them for myself… He always has amazingly high expectations (considering we haven’t won lotto yet), so we’ll just have to see. I think I’ve chosen pretty well, but he'll be disappointed not to get the working Light Sabre he wanted (sorry, Boy).