My Dearest Tiny Son,
Will you remember this day like I will?? How the earth gave hints of springtime with a welcoming blue sky, and a brisk air that carried us to the grocery store on bike? The way you helped me select ingredients in your miniature shopping cart or how we stopped to enjoy clementines while sitting on a stone wall at the street corner? Would you please try to not lose sight of your confidence or the way it gives you courage to do things like yell "Good morning to you!" to the cyclists flying by? Will you promise me to forever approach the making of cake with the same unabashed enthusiasm you did today??
Thank you for insisting on a chocolate layer cake, Bud! It was nothing less than THE perfect chocolate cake - wouldn't you agree? Remember this morning, how when we sat down on the floor with cake books (and coffee), in search of a recipe for tonight's dessert? How I passive-aggressively pushed for Deb Perelman's Chocolate Pudding Pie, and how you insisted on Tish Boyle's Sour Cream Chocolate Cake - the one so perfect, it made the cover of her book? And remember how I pouted about not getting my way, with that annoying, exaggerated, pushed-out lower-lip, and how you patiently watched my immature and manipulative tactics with complete and total empathy only to say - "It's OK, Mama. I still love you."
Ha! That must have been so hard for you to watch - and yet you handled yourself so well!
You are so, so good like that, Boo. You really do ask so little of us, and yet give so much: the hugs, the I Love You's, the offers to help, the I Love You's, your efforts to be big and independent so that Mommy and Daddy don't always have to work so hard.
Did I mention all the I Love You's?
You deserve whatever cake your heart desires on this Friday, and every one hereafter. It's the least I can do for you at the end of the week when you've probably initiated a dialogue of I Love You's for seven days straight.
PS - Your idea to put a candle in the half eaten cake and sing Welly a Happy Birthday song after his near-escape from his house (and our home) was adorable. Thank you for all you are, Sweet Boy.