Happy Birthday Gael!

As you know, yesterday was Gael’s birthday. He’s four now and he’s so big, he says.

I put his crown on him in the morning after bathing him (which of course he didn’t want to do because, well, he didn’t want to) and dressing him up all nice. I was starting to put on his shoes, you know the dressy brown ones with the laces, the ones he doesn’t like, and of course he didn’t want them. But I told him they were his “birthday shoes” and he said okay. I was surprised he was convinced so quickly but then again, he’s only four.

I remember when I used to be able to trick you like that. Like when you were being a little too touchy or noisy in the store and I would wait for someone to say something through the speakers and tell you that they said they saw you and you can’t touch that or that you have to be still. Horrible, I know. Sorry but that’s how I got you to be still.
Well, anyway, when I picked the little one up from school his teacher said he didn’t take his crown off the whole day.


He was so happy with his crown, he even wore it to Trader Joe’s. He pushed his little cart around and went picking up all the stuff he liked: cookies, yogurt, broccoli, vitamins, and those little fruit things he always gets for everyone and he still included you in the count. Oh, and then, like always he insisted on getting his free sample, yesterday was crackers with cheese and he did not like it. I guess we’re not fancy enough for that kind of cheese, queso ranchero for us (or you guys)

When we paid I picked up a pot of flowers, I didn’t get cut flowers this time, wasn’t in the mood. I’m gonna try to keep these flowers alive, TRY. The cashier said she preferred cactuses (or cacti, whatever) too.

The little one was humming It’s A Small World, I have no idea where he got that from but he kept humming it all the way to the car.

When we drove by Baskin Robbins he asked for his cake, my birthday cake! because it’s my birthday!

Okay, birthday cake, we’ll wait for daddy and your brother. I wanted to say “sister” too but . . . ni modos

In the evening when we were driving to get him his birthday cake (and Nauj got shotgun) he said, I want to pick her up.

Yeah? Me too

We too.

Love, Mom


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