The only thing Thatcher wanted for his third birthday was having cake. The entire cake ceremony was of utmost concern to him the week proceeding his party. I would mention that Grandma or Aunt D or Calli was going to be at his party and he would immediately ask “Is she going to blow my candles out?” and I would assure him that he would be the only person blowing any candles out. He would ask, “Will she eat cake and sing to me?” and I would guarantee that this would happen. He never asked about gifts or games or anything else. It was really all about the cake. He made himself very clear about having a chocolate-chocolate cake with candles and everyone singing happy birthday to him.
When it came to time to light the three polka dot candles on his chocolate-chocolate cake I gathered all the friends and family who came to his party into our dining room (too breezy outside) and we surrounded the table with cameras and smiles and joyfully sang happy birthday to him with the cake staged in front of him as is customary.
The moment we ended the song “Happy birthday dear, Thatcher…..Happppppy biiiiiirrrrtttthhhhdaaaaaay tooooooo youuuuuu” he, of course, burst into tears. He tucked his shiny head in his elbow and wept. Nothing is ever as we think it will be. You can imagine the cake, the candles, the friends and family lifting forth their choir like voices in a song just for you but the reality. My gawd. Horrifying.
So there he was sobbing in front of his birthday cake amid camera flashes and goodhearted soft laughter. The one wish he had, had already come true and it was awful. HEARTBREAKING! So I made everyone turn around. And they did. They all took a half turn and stared at the walls so he could blow his candles out in peace. And he did. Daddy prepared a heaping plate of cake and ice creams and soon he was happily gorging. The rest of the party went great. He had no expectations for anything else so it was all a pleasant surprise.
August 24, 2009
No comments:
Post a Comment