Yesterday, literally minutes after my post on the the lovely Pesach Seder I planned to prepare tonight, my husband emailed to inform me that he had to attend an important work dinner instead. His dinner tonight will be a good one, thankfully (work dinners always are). The kids and I will head to gymnastics class, maybe the park, and maybe dinner out at their favorite diner which makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken salad within a five mile radius.
We will have our special birthday/Passover dinner a few days from now. My husband isn’t wrapped up in birthday hoopla; he’s fine. But the kids and I are. Last year, when he turned 40, the kids created a golf course on a chocolate cake, complete with water hazards, sand traps, wildlife, and Ben Hogan. It was phenomenal, don’t deny it:
Last year, you see, my husband was trying to improve his golf game, having not played regularly for a very, very long time. One year later, his golf game has improved. He’s happy. I credit this cake.
They have plans for how to decorate this year’s cake, which I don’t think Daddy knows about, but our son whispers louder than most people talk so maybe Daddy does know (“MOMMY, THE CAKE SHOULD HAVE…”) Mostly our son insists that this year the cake features no Littlest Pet Shop creatures. His sister seems cool with that.