I recently posted about how silly it would be not to celebrate every chance you have. It could be a celebration of the 100th day of school, or because it's Friday, or because you aced your spelling test, or more importantly because it's Papa Boyd's birthday. We celebrated.
The bread I baked nearly exploded.
Ross opened the oven door and said it looked like ball-sacks.
I guess I don't see the resemblance.
We played games, although some were more successful than others.
The kids were super-pumped. And we hadn't even had dessert yet.
But they're kids. Turns out kids are naturally good at celebrating. Maybe even more than adults.
My kids are constantly teaching me. Birthday parties aren't about how old you are, whether the bread resembles ball sacks, whether the words on the birthday card are spelled correctly or whether the glass breaks; birthday parties are simply a way to show someone how treasured they truly are.
Happy Birthday Papa!
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