Char Char, Choochie, Charleau, Charles Phillip Arthur George, The Chooch, Charlie,
I just read back to last year’s birthday letter and all of that is still true, my friend. You are a crazy monkey. You are the aggressor. You don’t let your stature stop you.
You can still play by yourself better than any kid I know and you love to make up stories with your LEGO guys.
You started school this year, Charlie, and it has been just a year. You weren’t allowed into preschool until you turned 3 and since January you’ve been a fan of heading to school. Despite kids in your class being a year (or more) older, Mme Anne talks about how much you participate and have fun with your les amis.
This spring you had surgery for an inguinal hernia. It was tough for your Mama to watch you go into the OR, but you had on your Batman cape and were a superhero with the whole thing.
And you make up stories for your imaginary friend too. Mouse came to visit us this year. You love to tell stories about Mouse and his parents and his grandparents. We had a birthday party for Mouse in September and he even had his own stocking on Christmas Day. You’ve let on a little bit that you don’t really think Mouse is real, but we all love your stories about him so much that it’s hard not to let him go.
You like “Welcome Power Rangers,” playing Tiny Thief and Angry Birds on the iPad, and your favorite shows are Wild Kratts, Peg+Cat, and Star Wars (even though you know you can’t see the shows until you’re 5).
This morning you woke up to a table filled with a Lightning McQueen pit crew outfit, some LEGO, and a Batman cave. You dove in full tilt.
You want to grow up so badly, Charlie. Having an older brother means you tag along with him and his friends on play dates and are always trying to do what Zacharie does. Slow down, buddy, you have a lot of time ahead of you.
Here’s a look at your year, let Petit Monsieur, welcome to 4.