So. This is it. You're 18. Finally.
In your eyes, it's taken so incredibly long to get here. In mine, I can't seem to figure out how all the years sped by so quickly.
Eighteen years ago, my everything changed. Permanently. My life, my world, my body. Because let's face it, there is just no way to carry a baby for nine months, go through labor and delivery, and look the same. Ever. Even if you are one of the lucky ones, and manage to fit into your pre-pregnancy clothes, your body will still never be the same. It will be forever changed.
So it seems oddly fitting that today, on your 18th birthday; the day we are celebrating your move from child to man; that once again you are the cause of a major and forever sort of change to my body. Because today, I get to fulfill yet another promise made to you; a pact we made together. You design it....I'll do it. That was the whole of it.
Well, you upheld your end of the bargain. Now it's time for me to uphold mine. Today....we are getting our first tattoos together.
I am scared spitless. Needles and I? Have not ever been on good terms. So when you look back on your life, and you see all of the things we did together that created the memories you see? Give a little bit of extra brownie points to me for this one, okay? Apparently, there truly isn't anything I won't endure for you.
Happy 18th birthday to you, my oldest son; my starter baby.
We've grown up together, kiddo. And I don't think either of us has turned out too shabby.
I love you to the moon and back,