THE POTTAMUS IS SEVEN!

Dear Pottamus Rex;

 ARE YOU SEVEN YEARS OLD! Holy Cow!

 You have had a great year, pal…you have graduated from Kindergarten to First Grade! You’re having difficulty with lunch, though, and I don't blame you seeing as how your Momma keeps filling your lunch box with wheat bread, carrots and stuff --I mean, seriously? There's a time and place for that kind of food, but it’s not in the school lunch box. You can tell Mom that's in the Bible—(Deuteronomy).

But the biggest thing that happened since last year? Oh my, you have a SISTER! More on that in a second…..

 You and I still have that “issue”….Mom and Grandma still think something is wrong with both of us when it comes time to leave. They both thought by this time you and I would have gotten a grip on ourselves and manned up. It hasn't happened. As for me, it's not likely going to, either. I hope it does for you, though, because it may be a bit hard to explain to your friends when your 18 years old, HA HA!

Seven Years old, Rex...Time is flying, buddy—it makes this old man think too much, and that's why a lot of the time I call you Joe, so forgive me.  I know you're the Pottamus Rex. I even called your sister “Winnie” the other day.

You have been the best Brother to ‘Miss Priss’ (Georgia Rose)—the grown-ups didn't know exactly how you would take to her, but you have done great, and we are very proud of you! You don't notice but every time you walk in the room Priss will not take her eyes off of you---just remember to help look out for her and show her the way---you two are the only kids in the house, and you can't expect Mom and Dad to show her how it's supposed to be done---they are too old and have forgotten what it's like to be a kid. It’s what happens when you are a Parent. When you are a Grandparent, it changes back. Anyhow, Rex, I am counting on you to show her and explain to her as time goes by the rules---

 1)  Eliminate  bureaucracy---Ask Grandma and George first.

2)  Try to eat your supper, but if you don't, it's ok. There's always cereal, and Mom and Dad aren't about to let you go to bed hungry.

3)  She calls me George. Not anything else.

 

Happy Birthday, Reximus. I love you to the moon and back. I still have your note that says “George is my best Frend”. Here’s hoping that my best “frend” has the best Birthday ever. You sure make every day the best for me.

George