Michael turned five today. It's trite but true: I don't know where the time went.

This morning at breakfast, I asked Andrew (8) if he remembered when Michael was born. He actually recounted a fair bit of detail of being at the hospital, the toys he tried to explain to Michael, and getting to hold Michael for the first time.

Michael: "I punched you right?"
Andrew: "No, you were asleep."
Michael: "I hated you holding me."

Some kids are just born mean.