The Real Magic Isn’t on Stage—It Turned 18 Today

Eighteen years ago today—January 12th, in Vancouver, Washington—my world quietly changed forever.

That day, my son Sebastian (Sebby) entered my life and unknowingly became one of the three greatest reasons my world is filled with magic… and one of the biggest reasons I am who I am today.

As a toddler, Sebby was pure joy. Always smiling. Always happy. The kind of kid who could light up a room without trying. And then there was that day.

Sebby was about two years old, down for his afternoon nap. About an hour later, I heard laughter upstairs. Real laughter. Belly laughter. The kind that tells you someone is having the best time of their life.

I walked upstairs, smiling… opened the door……

and immediately questioned every life choice I had ever made.

Sebby was standing in his playpen, arms up, ready to be picked up, wearing the biggest smile imaginable—completely, unapologetically, artistically covered in his own poop. Face. Body. Through the mesh of the playpen. Everywhere.

That was fun.

That was magical.

That was parenting.

And somehow, even in that moment, all I could do was laugh—because that joy, that happiness, that fearless embrace of life… that was Sebby.

People often ask if my kids dabbled in magic or followed in my footsteps.

Sebby didn’t just dabble—he stepped into the spotlight.

Through his teenage years, he joined me at shows, performed in his school talent show, and even shared the stage with me. And here’s the truth: he was a natural. Confident. Charismatic. Comfortable being seen. He loved the spotlight, and the spotlight loved him right back.

But life isn’t just applause and curtain calls.

Sebby went through his share of trials and tribulations—real ones. The kind that shape you. The kind that test you. And instead of letting those moments define him, he rose through them.

Today, he is strong-minded. Strong-willed. Incredibly smart. Passionate about music. A loyal friend. A loving son and grandson. An amazing big brother.

And yes—just like his dad—selectively lazy. (We’re calling it “energy conservation.”)

This year, Sebby will graduate high school while working a almost 40-hour-a-week job. Not because he has to. Not because we asked him to. His mom and I both told him he didn’t need to work.

He chose to.

Because that’s who he is.

Responsible. Caring. Driven. Kind.

Sebby, if you’re reading this (and I know you are), your mom and I tell you every day—but it deserves to be written in permanent ink:

We are so proud of you.

Proud of the young man you’ve become.

Proud of the way you handled everything life threw at you.

You inspire me more than you know.

And I am endlessly grateful that I get to be your dad.

You’ve been magic since day one—poop and all.

Happy 18th Birthday, Sebby.

I love you. Always.

-Jonathan Molo

Dad