I’m not going to lie, Monkey, and you already know – I actually forgot for a bit this morning that it was your birthday. In my lame-ass defence, I’m still recovering from yesterday’s return trip to Calgary and I haven’t slept well in two weeks. Like I said, it’s lame, but I just wasn’t on my game this morning.
You didn’t hear “Happy Birthday Monkey!” until Mommy got up. I did endeavour to keep it going all day, but it wasn’t the first thing I said to you today, which I have nearly every other birthday. I’m sorry.
We had some cleanup to do around the house in advance of your friends arriving, and some decorations. I made Mommy breakfast, which only later did I realize that I should have asked you what you would like (I expect pancakes), but I botched that one, too. Again, I’m sorry.
Your first friend to arrive was, to zero surprise, Cadence. It wasn’t long before most of your friends were here (some of whom I’ve not seen in months) and the party proverbially began.
Worksheets. You gave your friends worksheets. I’ll admit that y’all do some interesting things for your birthday (though nothing might top the drunken piñata from last year), like doing personal quizzes, but … worksheets?? I mean, your friends certainly took delight in making a mess of it (Cadence complained bitterly about the math).
I hovered. I don’t think you noticed that, which really, you shouldn’t have. I was being ready in case something was needed. Mommy was at work, so this was the first birthday (I think?) with just one parent. Which, really, you didn’t need because you had everything else organized. (Except the hamburgers. Sorry, meburgers. You needed someone to make those.)
Oh, and make a fire for when y’all got back from the Regal Beagle. (No, not from Three’s Company. GenX reference, there.)
I did make sure, though that “Happy Birthday, Monkey” was the last thing I said to you today. And I hope you did have a good one.