My birthday. Sweet Chad, who cannot make scalloped potatoes from a box without guidance, took it upon himself to make me a birthday cake. And a fine cake it is/was (we had a slice tonight, a day early). It has delicious icing and colourful sprinkles to identify it as a birthday cake. Thanks, sweetie.
And, of course, thanks to Mom for shoving me on my way 32 years ago. Love you lots.
