As of today, I am no longer twice Ph.’s age. This is because he is another year older, and I am not. 17? 17! I count his catching up to me in age as reason enough to have a second cupcake with blue frosting when I get home later on. But for the fact that I am in the WC all day today–and booked solidly with consulting appointments (more on that later?), I would post a photo of Ph. when he was just a tyke. May he have a happy birthday all the same, even if I don’t amp up the frivolity with a humiliating childhood photo.