Quick, what were you doing on the morning of October 29, 1999?
Seven years later he is a kind-hearted and generous kid who plays a mean air guitar. To the scrum of life with four boys he brings a welcome measure of patience and sensitivity.
Last night I was tucking him in and I said, "This is your last night as a six-year-old." He said, "I'm nervous about being seven. It's the age of reason." I kissed him and said, "Reason is a gift. And you'll be a great seven-year-old."
Now I need to stop writing about him because I have a cake to bake, and seven candles to put on top.