I never thought I was going to have a buddy in the family, at least not like the one I have now.

Not to say my girls aren’t my “buddies.”

But once my wife and I agreed that some children in our lives would be a good thing, it seemed the good Lord just wanted us to have girls—and lots of them.

We had Chrissy, and then we had Jenny, and then we had Vicky. Nope, there were no boys planned for the Kevin Chiri household, other than yours truly.

Or at least that’s what we thought.

The wife and I had the first three kids rapid-fire, following the theory of having them close together so they could be playmates. And man did we have them quickly. Three girls in barely over four years—yup we certainly didn’t have a problem making babies.

We figured three was plenty, and that was it for us. But somewhere five, six, seven years later—as we both were in that 40ish age range—the baby bug started biting again and we finally agreed to have one more child.

When my wife turned up pregnant, so many friends and family figured it was a big slip-up since she was 40 years old and I was 42. But in fact, it was a planned baby, and despite the constant comments about “you must really want that boy,” there never really was much thought about needing a boy in the family. The fact is, my wife and I enjoyed the children and just figured another one would be nice—boy or girl.

So on Oct. 28, 1995, baby number four was born to us, and wouldn’t you know it, Big Kevin got a little buddy. Kevin Michael Chiri Jr. was born, and so began my life with a little boy to raise.

This next Tuesday, my “buddy” will be 13, and as so many parents can appreciate, my wife and I just watch as the days, months and years seemingly zoom past.

So Kevin got his boy, whether we were trying or not, and my life was never to be the same, now with a son to raise.

How would I explain the last 13 years with “Mikey” in the house? Wow, that’s a tough question, even if I am asking it myself.

But I suppose the easiest way to answer it would be to simply say that I couldn’t imagine our lives could have been this interesting without him. Not only did we get a boy, but we have gotten a boy who is funny, bright, obedient—and did I say funny—witty, (nice looking according to his mom), compassionate—and did I say funny? OK, so you get the point.

Mikey has probably made my wife and I laugh far more than we ever imagined one more child would make us laugh. For that matter, he is like a typical 13-year-old boy in that he never stops with the jokes, and keeps us laughing each and every day, regardless how difficult the day would be, or how trying the times are that face us.

Mikey and I truly are buddies in that we do a lot of fun things together—play basketball, throw the Frisbee, play football, go to movies, play tennis and I could go on and on. Not only does he like games as much as anyone, but I have tried my best to transition into being a dad who is around for his boy to play with—not the easiest thing to do as I’m now past 50.

But more than anything, Mikey has one favorite thing to do with me and that is to wrestle. Truthfully, I’m probably not as accommodating as I could be for the boy since I get home from work and usually want to collapse in my big chair. But forget all that. Frequently I get cornered by him, always with the same line, “hey, you want a piece of this?”

Of course I say that “no” I don’t want a piece of that, but nothing stops him and he attacks. We proceed to beat each other up (in a nice kind of way), and he loves to brag that he has cracked or broken three of my ribs (no joke), but the one thing I know—he loves to wrestle. So of course….I wrestle, and if that’s the thing he will remember many years down the road, then I sure want him to remember that his dad was willing to wrestle him.

So now the boy is 13, and mom and I know he is not a little boy anymore. He actually has a light, but clearly visible mustache, and we know the young kid who used to want to be Spiderman or a spy when he grew up, is not the little kid he used to be.

Now he says he is most interested in computer work, and wants to go into some kind of tech job. I asked him what he thought about his life right now and he said he was pretty happy, thought he had good parents and really liked still being homeschooled. I’ll take that, I thought.

For me, I have a boy who is my best buddy. I often think how dull my life may have become without the excitement and fun this boy has brought to me.

My wife frequently says that he is just like me, in particular, that he doesn’t know when to stop joking, even when family and friends are pushed to the point of aggravation. To me, it’s that humor from this boy that I so love about him.

He doesn’t really know it, but when I say “good night son,” I say it that way for a particular reason. He doesn’t know how special it is for me to call someone “my son.” And for 13 years, I feel like a very blessed man to have had him become a part of my life.

Happy Birthday son. I’m looking forward to plenty more years with you, even if the old man might not be the best wrestler you can find.

Kevin Chiri is Publisher of L’Observateur and can be reached at (985) 652-9545 or at kchiri@bellsouth.net