Dear Thomas

Dear Thomas

Dear Thomas,

Do you remember the letter I wrote you two years ago?
I forgot, but mommy didn’t.

I wrote: Today is your birthday and you are 11. I didn’t get you a present. I know you want a phone, but they keep saying no. They tell me no, too. I’m not allowed to have pop tarts before dinner. Mommy said when they told you that you were going to be a big brother again, you were so excited. Do you remember me as a tiny baby at your party when you turned eight? I am more fun, now that I’m three. You love me very much, don’t you, Thomas? I love you bigger than the moon. Mwah. That is a kiss for my biggest brother. Some day, I will be able to say your name, Thomas. You are the best present I’ve ever gotten.

Love, Amos

Can you believe I couldn’t say your name? I don’t remember that. Tonight, mommy whispered in my ear and I gave you a kiss and said, “Happy birthday, Thomas.” You said, “Thank you, Amos,” and I said, “Thank you, Amos,” right back. Maybe next year, when I’m six, I’ll get the whole you’re welcome thing.

You are my very own teenager.


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