Someone celebrated twenty-eight years of life on Sunday, and it was not me, Conor nor Ryan no matter how many times Ryan told himself, "Happy Birthday, Ryan!" That two-year old seemed to be very concerned that if it were not his birthday, then he wouldn't get any cake at all. Of course, when it came time for cake which he normally eats by the fistful, he used it solely as a platter for strawberries and cream.
So. What does a twenty-eighth birthday for the best man in the world look like?
- An English breakfast in bed (minus the mushrooms and black pudding)
- Graciously sharing your "rodent" with a non-sweaty toddler ... in case that isn't clear, Ryan can't say deodorant, but he can make it sound like a dirty animal
- Riding to RCIA class in the backseat of the car with one barefooted son and one son in sweatpants and dress shoes
- Using a stern, eyebrows-raised, look to silently will Ryan to cease his tantrum during Mass from across the aisle
- Hearing one son tell the other, "You're a ewok! Yub yub!"
- An ewok lounging on your lap
|Don't tell us he is a bear ...|
- Your favorite chili for lunch + a new beer to try
- A toddler with a chili mustache
- Watching a recording of an ND football game from the fall with your brother
- Handing over your British candy bar to your son
- Relaxing by the fire while being the best coach via Xbox there ever was
- Deciding to be even more like your father and choosing angel food cake + fresh whipped cream + strawberries for your annual candle holder of choice
- Wondering if your wife's misunderstanding of baking the cake herself will turn out as well what you thought baking the cake herself meant (I thought he meant from scratch so I bought all the ingredients for that ... welcome to the pantry, cake flour ... but scratch to him means from a box which is my usual method when it comes to cake baking)
- Being Ryan's favorite bed when he developed a fever
- Eating tostadas for dinner complete with queso, bean dip, queso fresco and guacamole (none of which ever show up regularly on my Mexican! night dinners of chips, rice, taco meat, regular cheese, salsa, onions, tomatoes and cilantro)
- Slowly torturing Ryan by not coming right away to his Daddy! Cake! announcements/commands
- Lighting your birthday candles yourself
- A baby on your lap watching March Madness (read: staring at the TV) and a toddler with eyes only for sugar
- Wishing that your birthday be blogged about (wink)
- Hearing Conor giggle and giggle every time Ryan charges at him shouting, "Happy Birthday, Ryan!"
- More impeccable Xbox coaching
- Watching The Walking Dead with your wife who talks through the whole thing and predicts someone dying every scene
We really know how to throw a rager.
We kind of like you, Chris. Thanks or saying this was exactly what you wanted to celebrate your twenty-eighth year on Earth. I can't wait to bake another angel food cake for you next year ... and the next year ... and the next year ...