The ninth year of life is a memorable one. It’s indisputable. I still remember which shirt was my favourite when I was nine. It was blue and had a photo of Napoleon Dynamite’s face on it. I wore my hair parted in the middle, played rugby with the boys at recess, and listened to Green Day during every waking moment. I was also nine when I made my first ever email address. It wasn’t embarrassing, it wasn’t inappropriate, and I still use it to this day, thank you very much.
Today, my friend M turned nine. He’s much taller and better looking than I was when I was nine though. I finished school early this afternoon and decided to spend a couple of hours with M on his special day. My sister and I picked up a vanilla donut from Tim Hortons and headed over to his daycare to pick him up.
In the back of my sister’s car, M used only his front teeth to scrape the sprinkles off the donut and returned it to the bag ten minutes later, soggy and bare. My sister and I sang him an obnoxious duet of “Happy Birthday.” M, covering his ears in the backseat, smiled big.
“Come on you guys, you don’t have to do that,” he said with a shy grin.
Since M’s birthday party isn’t until tomorrow, my idea for today was to dress up, journalist style, and interview M formally. I wanted to ask him about his eighth year of life to find out what his favourite moments were, what he learned, and what he is looking forward to as a big, smart nine-year-old.
Here is the final product. Sorry about the foggy quality.
Happy ninth birthday, M. ❤