It's Daddy Honey's birthday!
The birthday dinner was to be chicken and biscuits, so I made the chicken stew and Woody and Fox made the biscuits. I was amazed at how confident Woody's grown in the kitchen; he was tapping cupfuls of flour to flatten them out, making sure ingredients were thoroughly mixed before adding the next, sprinkling flour for a kneading surface like a pro, and washing his hands between tasks.
He wasn't too keen on making Daddy Honey a card, but he did want to draw him a picture of something he really likes to do, climb up the slide to join Woody in the play house. He didn't ask me how to spell any of these words; that was a surprise.
I made tissue paper flowers and hung the Happy Birthday banner that I made when Woody turned four. When Daddy Honey came home, we all ate well past elegant sufficiency. The wish-making and candle-blowing was shared among three. And the cake--my first bundt cake and my first marbled cake--turned out beautifully.
I love when holidays and birthdays are all-day affairs. I remember as a kid in school it was fun to do holidays with the other kids, but I was always disappointed that the holiday was only part of the day, not all of the day. It was a costume parade after lunch or a themed craft in art or a quick exchange of valentines just before school ended. I always wanted more, for my waking to bed time to be infused with specialness, for everything on these rare days to be experienced through the lens of celebration.
Today, it felt like we got very close to that, most befitting to mark the anniversary of the birth of a remarkable man whose love and presence I am most grateful for.
Happy 35th birthday, Daddy Honey.