And just like that, my Y2K baby has turned 20.
He was born in the final, waning days of 1999.
He loved to lord over his classmates that he wasn’t just a few weeks or a few months older than them, or a year older, or even a decade or a century older.
No, he was an entire millennium older than everyone else.
These are awesome bragging rights for all kids born in December of 1999.
And he still sometimes opens conversations with, “Back in the 90s…”
Because he was there.
For a couple of days.
Happy birthday, Kiddo.