Some birthdays are worth more than others. So, for example, becoming 9 gets you a birthday cake and some presents, but you don’t really get any privileges to go with it. Becoming 18 or 21 is a big deal, however, even though I can’t figure out why the drinking age and the voting age are two different ages.
All this is preface to noting that today is Christopher’s 8th birthday. Being 8 doesn’t mean he can drink, or vote, or get his ear pierced, or get a tattoo, or buy cigarettes, or have a girlfriend, but it does mean that he gets to wriggle free from the clutches of the nanny state in a small way.
HE IS NO LONGER REQUIRED BY LAW TO USE A CHILD SEAT IN THE CAR.
[Of course, booster seats are still recommended until he is 80 pounds, but since we have little skinny kids, he could be 12, or even 14, before he reaches that weight, so I don't see us following that rule forever.]
To quote William Wallace,
“FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-DOM!!!!!!!”
