The Andelins like to remember Andrew as a nude little boy playing in a dirt pile in our front yard. I remember him as the pest who always wanted to play with my breyer's plastic horses. He had to endure a lot of persecution growing up as the youngest and most charming of 7, and it's amazing he's turned out to be such an amiable young man (a little crusty around the edges, but nothing that time won't iron out). Lately, he has been in a "blossoming" stage of life. He is known to take up hobbies and sports that he has previously never expressed an interest in. He doesn't dabble. No, Andrew just gets going into stuff, which usually kids have been preparing their whole lives to do, like flutes or something, and Andrew will get first chair on the first day of try-outs. He has taken up JV basketball, soccer, jazz choir, lead singing in a band, herbology, cavies, and blogging. I've always thought him a capable artist (waiting for him to surpass me.) Happy Birthday Andrew!
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