Seven

Each year, Hannah plans for her birthday almost as long as Jane and I did.  We spent nine months on it (well, OK, plus ten years).  This year, Hannah has spent six months cooking up plans for the big day, March 19, when she will turn Seven.

This is apparently a monumental event, this sevenness.  She has started shunning all things “babyish,” even when that includes the children’s room at the library.  She flinched visibly when I took her to the Central Library in downtown St. Paul and she was forced to walk past the books displayed in the entry about Miss Bindergarten getting ready for kindergarten.  Afterward, we went out to dinner at one of our favorite neighborhood spots, the St. Clair Broiler.  They know us there.  Rather well, in fact.  The server reached for some crayons and a children’s menu – a paper placemat listing the 6 kid-friendly food choices, surrounded by little games and a picture of a baby dinosaur that Hannah has colored 40 or 50 times.  Hannah raised her hand in a cool brush-off.  “No, thank you,” she said and walked on by.  She’s big time now.  She’s almost seven.