Birthdays in my family are like your own personal Saint day. You’re banned from lifting a finger around the house, Mom makes your favorite foods for you all day long, you get to bring treats to school to share and let everyone know it’s your birthday…not to mention presents. I. LOVE. Surprises.
Every September 6th I have woken up to find balloons and homemade streamers decorating the kitchen with a scrumptious breakfast waiting, no matter how early I had to go to school. (See that cinnamon roll up above? That puppy ain’t Pillsbury.) This year I ordered up those cinnamon rolls, salmon sandwiches, and that incredible mint Oreo pie creation you see from Café Momma—holy mackerel, my stomach was in a whole other world.
Every birthday for probably ten years I requested high heels, dress ups, clip-on earrings, and anything else the girly mind could dream up. How I adore the home videos of me with my pre-braces mouth, grinning from ear to ear with a gap in between my two front teeth, drenched in a pile of Barbies and gaudy costume jewelry. I loved it all.
Only a little has changed: I exchanged my wish for dress ups to a dreamy bedspread, and Barbies for a show at the Hale Center Theater. Funny how everything changes, but nothing changes, right?
Thank you to those angelic brothers, parents, husband, and friends of mine who make my day special year in and year out.