The day before my birthday, the Bean was rather upset to learn I was not planning on having any birthday cake. To him birthdays = cake. This is the way the world works without question, just as the laws of physics dictate what goes up must come down and astronomy tells us that the earth is round. Which brought up the dilemma of when to have it. There was no way we were going to eat it at breakfast, for fear that every morning after would begin with a demand for cake instead of the traditional "cereal with milk." We couldn't wait until I normally got home, because that would mean the Bean would be eating his cake in the bathtub, just before bed, and there's too many things that could go wrong with that scenario. So fulfilling my son's birthday wish for me meant that I would leave the office early in order arrive home in time to catch the tail end of his dinner. Someday he’ll know how much I sacrifice for him.
Immediately upon entering the house, the Bean wished me a happy birthday and said, "It's time for cake!" WonderWife™ had three cupcakes sitting on a plate, waiting for us. So as the sun set on my birthday, I sat at the kitchen table with my family, eating cake before dinner.
Out of all of the cards I was given for my birthday, the one from the Bean was my favorite. WW™ says that he had already picked out a nice card with a monkey on it for me. But he apparently changed his mind as she was picking out her cards. The Bean grabbed one out of the rack and said, "I want to give this one to Daddy!"
I’m opening the card as WW™ is telling me this story only to find this: