The hinge--the child in the middle, number four--turns 8 today. He's in second grade, more handsome than the day is long, smaller than most six-year-olds, more aloof than a desert monk, more anti-girl than the fiercest misogynist, more naturally affectionate than a puppy, more in denial about his affectionate qualities than an AA member about being drunk, more self-entertaining than the bubble boy yet more friend-friendly than a politician.
I make no predictions about his future.
But he's a great kid.
