Icing on the Cake

Today looked kind of like this, but even cuter:

How? How, you ask, could things get cuter than a one-year-old with a birthday cake?

Make it twins, with birthday cakes.  Under no circumstances will I miss a one-year-old birthday party.  Especially not for twins.  Especially not when one of the twins is my godson.

I mean, just look at that face.  It’s kind of a blur, but really, so is that last year. I can only imagine what it’s felt like to his parents.  From the oh-so-tiny stage to the I’m-feeding-myself-cake stage is just a blink of an eye.  So my goal is to kiss this one’s little baby cheeks, as often and as loudly as possible.  Right now it makes him giggle and smile and kick his feet.  When he’s, say, thirteen, he won’t find it so funny, so I’m making sure he knows how much I love him before it gets all awkward and embarrassing.  And then I’ll do it anyway, mind you.

It was a fantastic birthday.

And then a few of us ended the evening at Cat’s Cradle, with more adorable boys whose cheeks I’d like to kiss:

It was a flawless show, as always.  And they closed with a cover from The Cars.  Chatham County Line? And The Cars? Together?  I couldn’t have been happier.

Unless, maybe, someone handed me a midnight steak taco and an ear of Mexican corn, with an orange soda, from a food truck in the parking lot.

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