This week… back to our regularly scheduled slice-o-Lee’s life entry.
April is a really good month at my house, and not just because it was my birthday. Well, that’s part of it but there was another birthday at my house this week. No, no, I didn’t have another birthday. It was the youngest’s birthday. That’s right, Tiny, my daughter and I share a birthday month. Don’t worry, I shall teach her to celebrate her birthday in style.
This year was the big 0h-two. I can’t believe how fast she has grown. For those readers who don’t have children, this is the first fun birthday. Don’t get me wrong, birthday oh-one is fun but mostly because the child smears cake all over herself. But, she doesn’t really get what the whole occasion is. The second birthday is much more of an adventure. The child finally starts to “get it”. The twins were kind enough to teach Tiny that the word birthday was synonymous with cake. They would ask her if she was ready for her birthday, heavy emphasis on the word “birthday” and Tiny would run into the kitchen squealing “Cake! Cake! Cake!” It was funny the first 20 times. It was cute the next 30 times. After that it got old.
Well, the big day finally got arrived and special dinner consisted of soft tacos. Usually, tacos are a big hit at our house, but not tonight. Tiny picked the shredded cheese off, ate the cheese, and decided she was done. That was fine and off she went to the toy room while the rest of us finished our meal. Finally, the event was to start and the twins were given permission to let Tiny know it was her birthday. They screamed, in unison, from the table (because neither felt like leaving their seat) “Tiny! Birthday!!”
Tiny came screaming, both literally and figuratively, “Cake! Cake! Cake!” She paused briefly in the middle of the kitchen to spin like a top and then rushed over to her seat at the table. Mom brought cake for all of us and we proceeded to warble out one of the worst versions of happy birthday ever. I shouldn’t say that because Mom can carry a tune, Girl can carry a note, but Dad… and the Boy… WOW, are we bad. All those years of listening to Iron Maiden and Venom made me a fine grade of tone deaf. The Boy isn’t much better. All together we make William Hung sound like Pavarotti. But, the important thing is we sang.
Of course, as soon as we were done, Tiny cried “Again! Again!” It was Tiny’s birthday so we sang again. And, if you can believe it we were even worse the second time.
Cake was had by all. Cake covered everyone’s face and the table and the floor. And a wonderful birthday was celebrated.