Happy ninth birthday to the boy who made me a mother! Your last year of being single digits!
John enjoyed a 'red letter day,' as my grandmother would have called it. We started out by going to Amelie's Bakery, not for his birthday but earned for diligent music practice. Then we had a regular school morning before it was time to bake his requested pumpkin pie.
John declared he wanted to bake the entire pie himself. Each time I unintentionally moved in to do something, like open a can, he pointed out again that he wanted to do it all.
Dinner was fettuccine Alfredo, as requested by John, and I think I finally found a real winner of a sauce recipe--neither grainy nor stringy but just right.
Paper plates and silver baby cups atop a vinyl table cloth because that's how we roll around here. How long will my boy still want his baby cup to use at special meals before he decides it really is too tiny for him?
|Joseph was tearful because he had just learned that there were no birthday gifts for him.|
|The candles are supposed to be a flaming 9.|