I thought today would be just another day; go to work (no bike commute today, due to my shocking lack of appropriate equipment for icy roads), come home, eat dinner, sleep. Birthdays have been ho-hum for some time. But I forgot that three-year-olds practically live for birthdays, their own or someone else’s. I came home only slightly later than usual, and the smell of frying meatballs nearly sent me flying backwards in space and time. Andrew insisted that I have a cake, and insisted that it have a picture of a bike on it. Elise tells me that it took a while to talk him out of the candles. He was more than happy to help open my presents and even barely avoided telling me what he bought for me.
Thanks, fam…that made my day.