With sprinkles

Many happy returns

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It’s late, and I still have a chapter to write. But tomorrow everyone will be focusing on turkey and football, so I wanted to squeeze in this entry before midnight.

My darling, funny, smart, and precocious little girl turned seven today. She wanted an ice cream cone-shaped birthday cake like the kind my mom used to make for me. Only my mom is talented, and I am not, because while I was fighting with frosting and crumbly carved cake pieces, I thought of something Angela wrote or said once, I can’t remember. It was something like, “Handmade for you with lots of s***s and d***s, happy birthday.” Only Angela didn’t censor because she’s not a delicate flower like I am. I always thought it was so funny, and so apt.

The lumpy, crumbling monstrosity actually looks much better in the photo than it did in person, but Miss K was thrilled, and I suppose that’s all that matters.

Happy birthday sweet girl. I love you to the far reaches of the endless universe and back.

Comments

  1. Shannon says

    I think that should be the title of a book full of beautiful handmade birthday party ideas. It captures my sentiments exactly every time I attempt.

    Happy Birthday to the sweet girl. Glad her mommy was home and well enough to bake her a spinkle cone cake. :)

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