I spent yesterday celebrating my daughter's birthday. We started the day with Shea, Tracy, and I opening presents, cuddling, and being together. We moved toward brunch with my family, spent the afternoon napping, and then had dinner with her family. Shea has somehow learned about cake from my birthday a couple of weeks ago. After each round of presents, she would look at her mother or I and ask, her head cocked, "Cake?" I have to gush. It was adorable. The hope in those little blue eyes, hoping that her mother and I would pull a cake from behind our backs and feed it to her.
Well, at dinner, she finally got her wish. We sat her in her booster seat, tied on her bib, and brought an ice cream cake to the table. Two tiny candles glimmered against the shiny chocolate frosting and Shea broke into a smile. We set the cake in front of her, sang, and she leaned forward to blow out the candles.
With one tentative finger she reached out and brushed the frosting and popped her little digit into her mouth. "Yum!" she exclaimed. Out came the little finger. "Yum, yum, yum, yum-o." Her grandmother pointed to the white whipped cream frosting that bordered the cake. She dipped a finger into it, ate a small drop, and threw her hands in the air and shouted, "Woo-hoo."
Sugar and babies. What entertainment.
This post didn't make it to the blog for some reason and so I'm posting it late.
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