On Saturday Manu turned 3 and although I do love a party, this year was very, very low key. So mellow in fact, that the evening before I started feeling a little guilty about not throwing him a big bash. “I feel bad we’re not throwing him a party”, I told Riz. Riz assured me that Manu wouldn’t notice. He didn’t notice. Boys.
We kicked off the day bright and early (6:30am. Kids.) with a present waiting on the dining table from Uncle Osman and Aunt Dallice (Thanks, guys!) Manu insisted on trying out his dinosaur stamp set right away.
The forecast called for low temps and rain all day and I couldn’t help day dreaming about the weather on the day he was born; sunny, blue skies, and 80. April can be so finicky. So our indoor plan was to collect as many quarters as possible and head to the mall. There we let Manu ride all the 50 cent kiddie rides his little heart desired. Two quarters were reserved for Mike and Ikes and Reeses Pieces from the candy dispensers. Oh, simple things.
After chocolate milk and coffees for the big kids at Panera, we headed back to the house. While Manu napped, ” I baked” and Riz decorated.
I say “baked” because what I really did was prepare cake mix from a box and topped it with sickly sweet funfetti frosting. Ugh. One bite of those things and my fillings started to hurt. Yet another sign I’m getting older. Like my super-baker sis said, “There’s something not right about frosting that can sit on a shelf for three years and still not have expired.” True that.
It wasn’t my birthday though, it was his.
He had not a single objection to this confection . Cupcakes in a cone?! I was a hero. After all, when you’re 3, “funfetti” and “love” are synonymous.
Of course, not a peep from the babe either.
After cake there were more presents.
Following our intimate little party, we loaded the kids in the car and headed to the music store where Manu strummed ukuleles (I had to look up how to spell that one) and rocked out on mini drum kits.
No doubt about it, he was heaven.
After a burgers and fries from Five Guys (requested by his highness), we tucked the little one in and Manu, Riz, and I climbed into our bed with a big bowl of buttery popcorn for a special movie night.
And after it was all said and done, I no longer felt bad about not throwing a party. The entire day from start to finish was all about him and I’m pretty sure he felt awfully special. Success in my book.
Happy Birthday, my sweet Manu.
And now for your viewing pleasure, the birthday boy presents December 1963: