When the boy was born, I said and thought cheesy things, things I would like to blame on hormone surges but that more likely stem from my molten internal core of cheese. One of those things was a promise — I promised to be his witness and to celebrate his days (please, don’t gag. It was the hormones). My birthday induced madness, where I bake too much and decorate too much, is part of keeping that promise.
The above is the photo rendition of this year’s promise keeping. The boy turned five. It takes a lot to turn five: bugs, friends, cake, cupcakes, a pinata, pizza, antennas, etc. It took a lot to turn two, three and four, too.
In the midst of party preparations, the boy asked his father, “What are you doing?” His father replied through gritted teeth, “Giving you a wonderful experience.” For the husband, birthday work (blowing balloons, hanging pinatas, creating strange contraptions from pipe cleaners, etc.) takes 24-48 hours, while for me the birthday work begins with the wonders of the internet. This year, the boy wanted bugs, so I found the following inspirations to create the above.