Sep 26, 2013 What's Going On
As soon as Fiona got home from camp (five weeks ago? Six?), she started planning our birthdays. Omer’s is today, mine is in a month, and Fiona was born a planner for sure.
For Omer’s fortieth a couple years ago he had a big party, but other than that, we don’t make a big deal about birthdays. We rarely go out to celebrate them. Call us old, call us boring, but we like staying home with the kids. The kids make things interesting.
Omer wanted crab legs for dinner, and as much as I bitch about the cost, I love how easy they are to make: drop them in boiling water. Even this vegetarian can do that. Of course, Jake and I have to dodge shards of shell as we eat our pizza/grilled cheese/mac & cheese/whatever I’ve made for the two of us while O and Fiona wrestle with their dinners.
I love making cake, but Omer’s birthday cakes come with a twist: he doesn’t want anything from scratch. Boxed yellow cake mix, canned chocolate frosting. Every year. No variation. But I can at least make it look pretty.
Between dinner and dessert, Fiona led us upstairs to the parlor, where Jake was waiting to “announce” the birthday boy and shower him with one of those mini confetti cannons. This took Omer so much by surprise that he laughed for about two minutes before he could get control of himself.
Then we settled in to our assigned seats – Omer on a beanbag chair, Jake and me on the piano bench – to listen to Fiona’s program, which consisted of a poem, wishing on candles, a scavenger hunt, the presentation of presents, and a group hug. And then we went back downstairs and had cake.
When it was all over, and the kids had scattered, I asked Omer why he was laughing so hard at the confetti. “It was the realization that my kids are awesome, combined with the sheer absurdity of the whole thing. It was a bit overwhelming.”
I don’t think the biggest, fanciest party could have affected him more.
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