Let’s just pretend that today is actually yesterday so that I can get somebody’s birthday written about on time! *wink*

And even though Riley does not read my blog, here’s his birthday letter.

Dear Riley,

I’m not exactly sure where to start, or even if I should start at all. I have some pictures of you that are just as funny as the ones I posted of Brady, and I hope you won’t start reading my blog till long after I’m dead. But since I must find a place to start, I shall start at the very beginning [a very good place to start].

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When Mom and Dad named you Riley Michael Bergen, I didn’t know what to think. In fact, it took me a long time before I could actually remember how to pronounce your name. I also remember that Dad wanted to name you Tyler instead of Riley. The reason he didn’t name you that after all was because he and Mom decided that they wanted a name for you that would end with the same ‘e’ sound as the rest of ours did. [Brittany, Katie, Brady, Abby…] Tyler wouldn’t work, and we couldn’t shorten it to Tylie 🙂 so they named you Riley instead. And the funny thing was, Dad liked the name Tyler so much that — during his phone calls to several close friends — he accidentally said that your name was Tyler, instead of Riley.

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You were hooked on guns at an early age, hmm?

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From what I can remember, you were a fairly happy baby. Though I am glad that you didn’t yodel back then like you do now. That might not have been very good.

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Ah, this brown wig holds many memories, doesn’t it? And by the time my birthday comes around all of my siblings will gang up on me and post the pictures of ME with the wig on. *sigh* I shouldn’t have given Brittany my password.

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That’s you on your first birthday. That cake was based off of a Dr. Seuss book. [“We like our Mike, and this is why: Mike does the work when the hills get high”] Mom always quoted that to you, since your middle name is Michael.

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Not sure why we wrapped your birthday gifts in Christmas paper, but there it is anyway. I’m surprised at how much you look like Henry in that picture.

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That picture of you and the monkey is one of my favorites. Back then, it was still funny when you were naughty. By the way, you were NOT supposed to have those animal crackers. That’s probably why you were smiling. 🙂

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You were too cute for you own good. I found way too many adorable pictures than I will be able to post here. I actually considered taking out the funny ones, just so I could put more of the cute pictures in.

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I decided not to.

[Sorry, just had to. I couldn’t find the other picture of you with a dress on, so this one had to stand in its place. Though the one of you as an eight year old with a old-fashioned dress and bonnet was much better.]

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There’s you and me. Hmm.

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You were playing piano [and wearing my hat] just to be like me, right?

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And that smile, right there, is how you got out of so much trouble when you were three or four years old. Maybe it’s a good thing you don’t do it anymore.

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‘Tis a shame we can’t get you in the kitchen more often.

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Maybe the reason you don’t bake very often anymore is because you forgot that the cook always gets to do the taste-testing.

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‘Tis a shame, indeed.

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Yup, that brown wig has been in the family for a long time. [Sorry for the blurry picture]

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It’s okay, Riley. We all know you’re strange. 🙂

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Still BEST FRIENDS today!!! [Maybe]

Nothing has changed…

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Well, now you’ve seen how cute you were when you were a baby. You’ve seen the brown curly wig AGAIN [for the last time, you hope]. You’ve seen pictures you didn’t even know we had. [Actually, I’VE seen pictures that I didn’t even know we had.] I wish I could write a long, flowery letter about how you gave me the wonderful virtue of learning how to run (if you don’t get it, read Brady’s birthday letter here), but since I can still sit on you when you’re mad, I haven’t ever had the need to learn that virtue from you.

I’m sure you’ll be surprised, but I actually do like your singing. God gave you a wonderful voice to use. But I don’t think He meant for you to use it during school. Or maybe He did. Maybe you are supposed to be teaching me the patience virtue instead of the running one. If so, we’ve got a lot of work left. But I’m willing to try. [Please tell me that you’re willing to try too.]

I like seeing you get excited. I enjoy seeing your eyes light up when you’ve discovered some new scientific fact about the planets or the stars. I am amazed at your smartness. I laugh when I hear you talking on the phone way too businesslike for a just-turned-nine-year-old. Your Lego creations are creative, and your drawings are unique. I am eager to see what you’ll be when you grow up; if you will be a fireman, or an astronaut, or a policeman, or a preacher. Or have you changed your mind again?

I am thankful to have a brother like you. I’ll try to remember that next time you yodel in my ear during school time. But really, I am glad. We’ve had a lot of fun together, you and I. And I’ll show how nice I am by not posting the poem I wrote about you a long time ago.

I could say much, much more, but oh dear, how time has flown. I shall tarry no longer.

Goodbye, my favoritest nine-year-old in the whole wide world. I love you all the way around the world and back again.

Your loving sister,

Kaitlyn M. Bergen

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