So when the countdown was in the single digits and he requested a pineapple upside-down cake, I was shocked. Really? Is that what you really want, Henry? Have you ever even tasted pineapple upside-down cake? Are you sure? Okay, if you're sure.
Not surprisingly, Eika volunteered to do the baking. Within a matter of a few conversations I went from being obligated to an artistic and culinary marathon manifestation of my love for my son to remembering the pineapple rings at the grocery store. I held my breath, sure that he was going to change his mind at the last minute. Then the baking commenced and I held my breath for the moment he realized that this messy, sticky mound was his birthday cake. But still, no regret surfaced. His birthday was four days ago and still I'm waiting for muffled sobbing one night at bedtime and a confession that he wished he had asked for a different birthday cake. I mean, there wasn't even any frosting, for heaven's sake!
I'll skip the play-by-play of the rest of the birthday weekend, which included (but was not limited to) the giving and receiving of assorted weapons and other dangerous gear (bow and arrow, flint fire starter, blow dart gun, firecrackers) and serious noise making devices (a djembe, firecrackers). I know really, deep down in your heart, all you truly want is to see Henry as a teeny baby, right? Who needs details about how many arrows he has lost already or which things on our property he has set on fire? Well, here he is.
And for those of you who missed it then, here is the birth announcement (modeled after the announcement made by Henry's great grandparents when Henry the third was born):
Happy birthday, Henry! We love you!
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