A big party was had here in the Mission for a very special fellow.
He's not your usual 11-year-old. Few people know that he was a cover baby by age six months. His particular skill was remaining happy and smiling long after the other babies grew fussy.
Not Dylan. Thus his nickname, "Sunshine."
On the other hand, he has grown into a sardonic, ironic, wry observer of this weird world. He worries about global warming, even as he has become a childish expert on German history from WW1 through WW2.
I don't remember a time in the past few years that he agreed to go through a night without his Russian Red Army hat, but tonight he did.
He's an easy guy to love, even as he becomes a complicated young man before our eyes. Something tells me he'll turn out to be an important part of his century...
Happy Birthday, Dylan!
-30-
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