The Birthday Fairy

The birthday fairy struck again. As she does each and every year. And fifteen years later, I still get a bit of a shock each time it happens.

Fifteen. Who authorizes these things?

Yes, that's a hamburger cake. Remember how Paul has pneumonia? Well, Grandpa came over to sit with Paul for a couple hours while I birthday-shopped (since the sick boy had consumed all my time the day before). And an hour after I got back, I was cuddled in the recliner with Mr. Cranky Pants when I realized I didn't have a cake for Rachel. And I burst into tears. And the phone rang.

It was Aunt Christi, calling to get Rachel's cell number. I began whimpering about the sorry state I was in and she offered, without even hesitating, to bring a cake over. And this is what she chose (after calling in to see how I felt about a hamburger cake). Does she know Rachel or what?

And since her brothers batted around the balloons all day while she was at school, Daisy was the only one allowed to tug on a balloon.

Happy birthday, little girl.