To the Peter Pan of my life

Seven years ago, precisely, God gave me my Peter Pan. March 29th, the day our beloved city of Salvador reaches 459 years of foundation, my lovely Pedro gets to his 7th year of age. Can a father in this entire world be happier than I am? I doubt it! Pedro is my joy, my lighthouse, my little love, the living proof that makes me feel survived throughout this and, hopefully, many other lives to come. Pedro is my anchor, my harbor, my ocean. Seven years of age. How precious. But he's growing too fast, I think. I miss his baby days already. His first tooth, and now he's losing an entire bunch of them. Big teeth are coming in. My Peter Pan is leaving time behind. This is no good. I tell him: Why don't you stop growing, Pedro Pan? It's so lovely to be a child. Ah, dearest son, your imagination makes me fly with you! What's gonna happen when you come of age? Who's going to tell me all about Ben 10, Pokemon, Bob Sponge and the zillion Cartoon Network's characters? Oh, Pedro, be always my Peter Pan, no matter how tall you become, will ya? This father here has so many things to say, so much love to dedicate, so much... that it gets complicated to put that in words. My Peter Pan is now seven years old. On this day, his family is happier than ever. And we all wish Pedro seven times seven times many seven years forever and ever! God bless you, son!