In the morning your daughter creeps into your bed, buries her head in your husband’s shoulder, and whispers, “Happy Birthday, Daddy.” It is a good day all around – your girl happily off to school so when lunchtime comes around you can take your husband on a date. He wants Mexican food, so you go and split a pile of chips and salsa. You smile at each other. The sun comes down warm through the windows.
Later, in the kitchen, you bake all these beautiful little cakes for him that taste just terrible. You toss them sadly into the trash and say a small thank you to the backup box of cake mix. It’s good to have backup plans. The frosting will still be homemade. You lick a smudge of sugar off of your wrist and don’t feel so bad after all.
The cake is delicious in the end – a little blue puff of sweetness that you serve after dinner. In her excitement, your daughter blows out the candle on the cake before your husband even gets to. You light the candle again. He makes a wish. The candle sputters out.
And you raise your glass of wine, say cheers, here’s to you. Drink to all the good things. Put a slice of cake on every plate.