Friday, August 24, 2007

The first cake was done and carefully managed to place each tier on the cake plate with layers of frosting between. It's a square cake as I couldn't find my round pans. They are probably outside in the sandbox, behind the garage filled with dirt, or else I hid them from myself cleaning out my cabinets a few months back. The cake is also chocolate. I managed to finish the decorating by myself and placed it high up on the water cooler, where I thought it would go unnoticed and left alone.

Having accomplished this feet I decide to make lunch in the microwave and as always the circuit blows. Not that big of a deal I will just trip the breaker and grab my sheets out of the dryer while I am in the basement. I run down the stairs as quickly as possible trying not to break my neck on the clothes left to be sorted and laundered. I step on a car on the way down, a new addition to the others that have ceased to work properly and are therefore thrown over the baby gate into the abyss.

I go in the furnace room and flip the light switch and wait for the flicker from the fluorescence. I flick the bulbs and hope that will hurry it up, it doesn't. I feel around in the dark for the panel and find the fuse hoping I don't electrify myself. The light decides it is up to the challenge at last and gives me light, I hit the fuse and turn the light back off. I head over to the laundry room and I can feel precious minutes have passed. He hasn't noticed I am downstairs yet at which point he would cry, scream, and do all he could to try to get over the gate. The fact he hasn't noticed my absence worries me too. What is he doing? How dangerous is it? What kind of mess am I gonna have to clean up?

As I am coming back up the stairs with my fresh clean sheets I can hear him singing. "Happy erfday to youey, Happy erfday to youey." He then makes big inhale and blowing noises.
At the top of the stairs I turn in the kitchen and see him standing in a chair, serenading and blowing at the cake. There are little finger marks all over it and chocolate covers his face. I move the cake to the fridge, wipe his face, and then make my way down the hall to deposit the sheets onto the bed and I hear "Happy erfday!" He has found it. I get to the kitchen before he has moved the cake from it's shelf and sit it on the entertainment center in the living room.
He climbs on to the highest piece of furniture and sings "Happy erfday to you!" his hips swaying back and forth to the tune.
"Are you going to sing Happy Birthday to Daddy?" I ask him as I hold on to his waist to stop him from falling.
He sings it a few more times then pretends to blow out the candles. He doesn't aim toward the cake this time but at me and my face is showered in spit.

Daddy did get to hear a little bit of "Happy erfday to you." but we had to restrain him from running when others joined in. He didn't cry this time and we sang fast to finish the song. He and his Daddy blew out the candles together.

We have another birthday party tomorrow at a park with a big water fountain that kids can play in. The party is for my cousin's son. Should be interesting.

2 comments:

mom to max said...

awww...what is a little spit between mom and son? birthdays are interesting here too. my son is always wanting me to light birthday candles any time i bake anything. it is always a birthday celebration!

great post...you write so well!

www.theautismexpress.com

Suzy said...

LMAO!! Great story about sweet Connor- at least he's not scared anymore-