Today he turns 26.
(He thinks this is "very old.")
Today he will go to work.
("To earn money for you to spend," he says.)
Today he will finish one job . . . and go straight to another.
Today we will not even have time to celebrate his birthday.
(I am probably more bummed about this than he is.)
Today, however, is the last Monday evening he'll have to spend away from home. Because next Monday, 645 Hamilton Street will be home.
(And then we will have a proper celebration.)