I whole heartedly maintain that the world is a much better place because 22 years ago today, a little fella named Alexander entered this world. Normally, on the birthdays of close relatives, I regale my blog reader with a hilarious tale of humiliation and embarrassment. However, with Alex, there are too many.
There was the time he called into work saying he was in a car accident. To bad it was a lie because his boss called my parents in a panic.
There was the time he lost a heated and hotly contested game of Family Feud. When asked to name a household appliance, Alex screamed out, “Spoons!”
Or the time we were exhausted, driving back from a ski trip and stopped at McDonalds, chauffeured for 5 hours by a mechanic because our car had broken down. Alex was holding a huge tray of sodas and as everyone, bad moods included, watched him walk back to our booth, he dumped it all over the floor.
Alex played football for years and once broke his arm doing so. Did he break it in some intense game-winning maneuver? Nope. Hew tripped over a tackling dummy.
I could talk about the first time we got to fly first class, and a very young Alex was seated next to a very uptight woman in a stunning suit. He proceeded to play with a small container of coffee creamer until it exploded all over his seatmate.
When Alex was about 12, we celebrated Thanksgiving at the Olympic Club. Alex had outgrown his little navy blazer and mom hadn’t gotten around to buying him a new one. She figured, “Screw it, he’s 12. What are they going to do?” Alex arrived at the Club, of which, I should point out, he is currently a member, and the maitre’d came over with a bright red sport coat. “Excuse me, sir. Perhaps you’d feel more comfortable in this.”
When traveling Australia, we stayed on some island resort, reachable only by yacht. After carrying around a laptop for weeks, we left the resort and boarded our boat. Seconds before the boat is due to depart, Alex screams, “The laptop!”, and runs back onto land, halting the departure of dozens of pissed-off tourists.
Another stroke of genius? Alex and Peter were enjoying a sleepover at John’s house. In the middle of the night, John decided to climb out onto his roof and pee off the edge, while singing the national anthem and saluting. Alex then brilliantly locks the window, forcing John to break it. In breaking the window, John slices open his arm and Alex and Pete simultaneously call 911 from two different phones, prohibiting the emergency call from going through.
Alex and I were driving somewhere once, and the tag was hanging out of his black t-shirt. I went to tuck it back in and noticed that it read Banana Republic Intimates. “Uh, Alex. You’re wearing mom’s shirt.”
There are hundreds more to tell and hundreds more to come. Alex is a god, a genius, a gentleman and a goofball.
Happy Birthday, Biscuit!
I love you!!!!!