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.
Happy Birthday sweet K…sprinkles and all!
It is all that matters. And you are right, it looks great in the photo. Happy Birthday, sprinkles and all.
Miss A. had so much fun! Thank you for letting her make K.’s day special!
Happy birthday, Miss K!
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. :)