In high school, Brandon's bedroom was wallpapered with the big, colorful Calvin and Hobbes strips from the Sunday editions of the Los Angeles Times. He had (and still has) all the books, quoted the characters, drew them on every conceivable surface. Calvin is the ultimate daydreamer, a boy philosopher, questioning everything from his parents' authority to religion, even to reality itself. It's no wonder that people are still telling stories of the boy and his tiger all these years later.
During Stephanie's pregnancies, we never wanted to know the genders of our kids. We'd have two names picked out, and enjoy the one remaining surprise available to us in this modern age. We only knew who the newcomer to our family was when they finally came out into the light and our waiting arms. So the third time around, Calvin was our pick for the boy's name. Imagine then the sense of serendipity when a boy joined our world, newly marked as "Calvin", and mysteriously sporting blue eyes and yellow-blond hair (to two brown/hazel-eyed, brunette parents).
Now in his 6th year, the same age as the Calvin of comic strip fame, our Calvin delights in his unparalleled imagination, seeing a world slightly different (and undoubtedly more interesting) than what the rest of us experience. His is a childhood of infinite possibilities and a decidedly offbeat perspective. And we wouldn't have it any other way.
So for six years, we've been waiting to do this...
You light up our lives, sweetheart. Thank you for being you.
