Happy Day

Birthdays here are simple affairs. Once every few years we plan a party, but most of the time we are the party, with grandparents or aunts and uncles added to the mix for a little extra fun.

Last week we celebrated one of our favorite little people and gave thanks to God for her. She planned the day to the hour and somehow convinced everyone to follow her schedule. She is somewhat persuasive. The evening before she slotted my wake up call for 6:50, to start the pancakes. Though I protested that I wake up at seven, I'm sure I was up before then.

And so we careened through the day, from syrupy fingers to presents for the curious scientist. We rattled along in the van and tubed the quiet creek. We played games and went for a bike ride and ate food. We finished the day with ice cream cake. Homemade mint ice cream, made out of consideration for the one who is allergic to peanuts, with chocolate. And candles. Eight candles. Eight years for the girl who is happy every day, but happiest of all on birthdays.

This is her brother's humorous display