Becky’s big eyes and blonde hair.  My father-in-law’s booming voice, charisma and athleticism.  My dad’s brute strength and the muscles that go with it.  Energy that came from I don’t know where. And Ken Lay’s, um, appetite.  That’s Gresham.

Today he turned six and all he wanted to do was eat out.  He planned the day accordingly.  First, we would have breakfast at Cracker Barrel.  Then, lunch at Logan’s Roadhouse.  Last, dinner at Chick-fil-A.  It struck me as an odd agenda for a little boy’s birthday, of course, but just seconds after walking through Cracker Barrel’s doors this morning it all became clear.

“Tell them it’s my birthday so I can have ice cream,” he said.

At lunch: “Tell them it’s my birthday so I can have ice cream.”

And dinner: “If we take it home can I still have ice cream?”

That, my friends, is learning the rules and playing the game with strategery.  Use your skills for good, boy.

Happy Birthday, Gresham.

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