A petite blonde boy fascinated by pirate ships and dinosaur puzzles in his living room pauses for a second to imitate the Nittany Lion.

"Rawwrr," he growls.

To an outsider, 3-year-old Max Kirby and his family -- mom Meredith and dad Steve -- look like any young, happy family.

But a closer look into the welcoming State College home of the Kirbys' reveals a struggle not visible from an outsider's perspective. Max was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer in the form of a germ cell tumor when he was 2 1/2 years old. The cancer was found after Max complained of his backside hurting, Steve said.

"He knew he had an 'owie,'" Steve said.

An airplane ride to Steve's home country of England alerted his parents that something was wrong. Max was in such discomfort that a surgeon from Georgetown University who was riding on the plane examined him, though not much could be done 3,000 miles above the Atlantic Ocean.

"You couldn't be annoyed with him because you could tell he was in so much pain," Meredith said.

When they returned home, Max's cancer became a reality no parent wants to face.

"The second they tell you your kid has cancer, you cry," Steve said. "That's when we heard the dreaded word 'oncologist' in the same sentence as Max."

Before Max underwent a five-hour surgery, doctors didn't even know he had malignant, stage-four cancer -- the worst stage.

Steve and Meredith recalled times when Max's fever would reach 100.4 degrees, the minimum temperature required to notify The Hershey Medical Center. During those occasions, the Kirby's would make the 100-mile trip from State College to Hershey, where their son underwent various tests and treatments.

"I lived at the hospital the whole time," Meredith said.

Referencing a picture of her son dressed up on Halloween without hair, Meredith described her experience dealing with Max's treatment and the side effects that came with chemotherapy.

"As a parent, you're oblivious," Meredith said. "One time I asked my sister, 'Does he look like a kid with cancer?' 'He really does,' she told me."

The Kirbys did have light in their lives, in the form of compassionate neighbors.

"When we came home [from Max's first treatment], we couldn't see the front door [because it was] covered in balloons and cards," Steve said. "We live in a real tight neighborhood."

Even though Max was in pain during treatment, Meredith stressed how brave and good-natured her son remained.

"He didn't know to feel sorry for himself," she said. "When he didn't feel well, he'd just ask to snuggle and watch movies."

Though Max is in remission, he does have long-term effects from his disease.

"He has lost some sense of hearing, just high-pitched sounds," Steve says. "He may not hear the soccer referee's whistle," he said jokingly.

Meredith, a Thon dancer in1994, says without Thon, her family wouldn't have made important contacts that gave them their support system. Max is sponsored by the American Society of Civil Engineers. The group is committed to Max, showing up to the Thon 5K dressed up as the Cat in the Hat, one of Max's favorite characters. The organization is even hosting a blood drive for Max in February, with $2 from every pint of blood going toward Thon in Max's name.

"We have a really solid group," Meredith said. "They've come over for dinner and Santa. We love our group."

Max also loves his group. His catch phrase, Steve said, is "love you, big kids."

"He talks about the big kids and doing stuff with big kids," Steve said. "He runs around and squirts young adults with water guns."

When Max is asked if he remembers last year's Thon, his first, he doesn't miss a beat.

"I sure do," he says, before launching into an extremely accurate version of "Scooby-Doo, Where are You?" Scooby-Doo is one of his favorite TV shows, he said, gesturing toward a packet of Scooby-Doo fruit snacks in his hands.

As members of The Four Diamonds Fund, there was "no expense to spare," Meredith said. One instance when Max required medicine, the insurance co-pay came to less than $2, she said. After taking the money out of her purse and paying, she experienced the full meaning of The Four Diamonds Fund and how dedicated the organization is to its families.

"The nurse saw we were a part of Four Diamonds and opened up the cash register and refunded the $1.47 I had just paid back to me," she said, laughing.

The whole family is excited for Thon, especially getting to enjoy it while Max is in remission.

"The Nittany Lion is going to be there," Max said. "Rawwrr! I'm going to tickle his feet!"