It's hard for me to understand how Eli could be eleven years old--he only had his first birthday five minutes ago--but I'm assuming his claims are correct.
I'm very proud of all the things he's done in his short life, and how hard he works, but I'm most proud of the kind of person he's always been. All the way back to his little shaver days, he's been warm and caring and generous. There aren't nearly enough people in the world like that, and I'm very glad he's +1 to the category.
Today is also an anniversary for me, of sorts, because I realized last week that I have been writing about Eli for ten years. My first column at Gone Gold was about assembling a toy (the Rock-N-Bounce Zebra--a foul device) for his first birthday.
I have no idea how many words I've written since then, but it was far, far too many. And some of you, incredibly, have read them all. So thanks to anyone who stops by to read, and a special thanks to those of you who have been here from the beginning.