The birthday grinch

At breakfast this morning, Keith announced in his infamous black and white style that, according to something he just read, there will be no summer this year. Something about the gulf stream, blah, blah, words and stuff. I, in my own loving and respectful way began to pshaw in disbelief. Back and forth. Repeat.

I glanced over at Ethan, his face scrunched up and eyes filling with tears. "Oh, Ethan, what?" with all the sympathy I could muster.

His voice wavered, "That means I'm not having a birthday this year."

Keith, who has whispered the truth about Santa Claus to each of his innocent babes since birth, has now managed to also steal summer.