Because the boys’ birthdays are five days apart, there’s always a week in late August that involves rather a lot of cake. We had the last of the birthday celebrations today, which means the KitchenAid and I can rest from our buttercream labors.
Our hero had quite a day today. A bus ride to preschool, McDonald’s for lunch (is there greater happiness?), and a visit from Auntie* Kim (above, blurred), with a surprise fly-by featuring Uncle** Chris, who was just in time to sing Happy Birthday***.
I was just happy that he slept last night. He knew that he was going to be five “at next breakfast” – he’s still having trouble with the concept of tomorrow, so we’ve been marking time with meals – and he was lying in bed last night actually vibrating with anticipation.
I can’t quite remember what it feels like to be so wholly overcome with joy (and a Hot Wheels track never did it for me, but hey, different strokes). We grow up, and our joys are tempered with history and perspective, and sometimes cynicism. To be fair, our sorrows are tempered too, with the certainty that nothing lasts forever. Sometimes, it’s what makes the horrific bearable. So it’s not all bad, growing up, and it’s necessary.
But it’s delightful to witness the immoderate joy of a five-year-old who is having a really good birthday, and pretend for a bit.
And in closing, a confession: I like my cakes, and I really like my icing, but … I’ve had enough sugar for awhile. I’m starting to crave celery. And apples.
*Honorary title, for those of you keeping score at home.
***No copyright infringement intended. I can’t believe that song isn’t in the public domain yet.