Today I woke up, and Robert was 10 years old. That's decimal-10, by the way. Not binary-10, which is decimal-2. Which is about how old he was when this blog started.
Based on the way I feel, I think decimal-10 years have passed since this day started. But I am blopping, because that's what bloppers do. They blop through the fatigue of having hosted a gaggle of decimal-10-year-olds in their houses for decimal-3 hours. Which is the same as binary-11 hours. Which is how long it seemed in decimal hours.
The day began with a birthday breakfast at my favorite new place downtown. (I still miss being able to find a great egg-and-bacon joint within 50 paces of my apartment, but this helps ease the pain.) Robert ordered two eggs over easy and all the bacon they could legally give him without violating state child-bacon laws. And while he waited, he did what most decimal-10-year-olds do: he drafted the Constitution for the Republic of Lazistan (see left).
Robert's favorite birthday gift is a book called "How to Build Your Own Country," which fits right in with his desperate wish for total self-governance. He has grown tired of his mother's and my autocratic rule (we had some drama earlier this week that I'm sure will reach print at some point during this month), so he's become obsessed with building his own fiefdom from scratch.
Tomorrow, I think the first job after pancakes will be to design the currency, which is as yet unnamed. But I can't think about that now, because it's 11 o'clock, which is binary-3 o'clock, which ... you get the idea.
