When a blog post concerns the birthday of a three-year-old, there should only be one part. This was my first mistake.
Very early on the morning of my brother's third birthday, I was awoken by a sound that went:
thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump (long pause) "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!"
This, of course was the sound of sleepy three-year-old Ian wandering out of his room and, disoriented, falling all the way down the front stairs of our house, breaking his leg.
What a terrible thing to have happen on your birthday! Except he didn't know it was his birthday and no one was going to tell him. As far as he was concerned, his birthday was that upcoming weekend on the exact same day as his birthday party. (If you're wondering, the party went on as planned with my hobbling around in a full-leg cast.)
I remembered all of this as I was icing the first of the two birthday cakes I will have made by the end of the week because I wasn't smart enough just to tell my kid that the day of his birthday party is his actual birthday. So we celebrated his real birthday at school and at home yesterday and, on Saturday, we'll do it all again.
So much cake. Not to mention that the poor kiddo was, apparently, kind of confused and wanted to know last night where all the kids were?! Sorry, peanut.
Next week, I'll let you know how the party went and (what other wisdom I may have gleaned in the process of throwing it) . . .