It’s Good to be Gabe

Seven Reasons it’s Good to be Gabe

So, it’s my birthday today and my mom said I could help write the blog.  I don’t really know what a blog is.  All I know is my mom made me sit still for like 5 whole MINUTES, on my birthday no less, and answer some silly questions about why it’s good to be me.  I’m not that good at typing or reading, so I’m just trusting her to write what I say verbatim.  Wait, what’s “verbatim” again?
Mom: What do you like about being you, Gabe?  Especially today on your birthday?


Duh. Presents.  Did you really expect any other answer?
(Adults are so… simple… sometimes. FYI, I’m not allowed to say st#*$d.)


Cake and ice cream.  
(Double duh and heartfelt groan)
This cake has too many candles.  I’m only 3 after all!


Birthday Cereal.
This is me, running away from my mom with my Trix. 
See, my dad (who is totally awesome and the best human ever) decreed about a year ago that on our birthday we could choose ANY CEREAL WE WANT. No Mommy-Veto, no healthy crud.  Just pure, unadulterated sugar, GMOs… you name it, I get it.


Remember my amazing dad?  Well, guess what?  
Rumor has it HE did my birthday present shopping.  That’s right.  No homemade “meaningful” toys, no educational junk, no wooden toys made-in-America meant to “improve my imagination.”  This year, I get the best store-bought stuff available.  
Keeping my fingers crossed (well, as much as I am able) for a light saber, Spiderman dress-up, and some monster trucks.  Huzzah!!!!


Mom, my (distant) second favorite person in the world, has a big Bag of Tricks (not Trix… but hello? that would be AWEsome!) she calls Playful Parenting and Empathy Strategies”.  
Every once in awhile, one of us kids enjoys being “independent” or “strong-willed.” (Hey, did she put those words in quotations?!  I can’t read, people!  And I don’t understand the rules of grammar!  Is my ghostwriter mocking me?)
Anyway, sometimes when us kids are just being sweet adorable children and not-arguing and not-fighting and not-doing-any-other-annoying-thing-at-all, my mom can deter or deflect all this genuine awesomeness by reaching DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP down into her Bag of Tricks.  Somehow she comes up with a way to convince me I actually DON’T want to fight with my sisters or “face-punch” my brother.  I actually want to have fun while… Whoa, Nelly, what’s this?  Fun while cleaning?  Fun while brushing teeth? Maybe I’m going to have to re-assess this whole number 5.
Anyway, I have a feeling that today I should be especially grateful for the “Playful Parenting and Empathy Strategies” bag of tricks.  If you’re not sure why, just scroll back up and read numbers 1-4.


Gum.  My mom promised me a million years ago that when I turned 3 (THREEEEEEEE) I could chew gum with my sisters every once in awhile.  Today is that day.
I have a sneaking suspicion she thought I would forget.  Muahahahaha!


About 10 months ago, the Usurper Zeke developed some pretty awesome hair.  All red-gold and curly.  It made everyone swoon.  More importantly, it made people stop paying attention to my white-blonde locks.  
I got news for you, little brother.  The score has been evened out.
A few weeks ago, Zeke’s hair looked like this:
But then the weather dried out, and it started looking more like this.

Mom was pretty sad cutting it yesterday.  But she perked up when, after the cut, it still looked sorta curly.

By today, it’s clear that in order for Zeke to have curls, Mom is going to have to “do” his hair.
Bam.  Bieber-ified.

Meanwhile, I’m still rocking the straight, thick, white-blonde locks.  Who the ladies be lovin’, now, Zeke?

Happy Birthday, sweet Gabriel!

Go check out Jennifer at Conversion Diary for more Quick Takes.  Although be fore-warned.  They are sadly lacking in Gabes.


  1. Cuteness!!!!

  2. haha! happy birthday gabe! i gotta say, you’ve got some nice hair! 🙂

    • Thanks, Sheena. He has the nicest hair in our family. When the girls are old enough to be jealous, I’m sure they will. I know I am!