You look like a monkey, and your mama does too
March 5, 2007
Blowing out the candles on the cake he made all by himself.
Moments before the two of us had a “discussion” about the size of the pieces of cake he was cutting. And I ruined the evening with my inability to keep my mouth shut.
Pieces that were the size of small continent, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? I am only pointing it out to make myself look better.
There may or may not have been yelling. Perhaps some vague threats of if you can’t do it properly I will have to do it myself.
He may or may not have stormed out of the room leaving us to enjoy his birthday cake without him. “Enjoy” being a relative term. As much as one can “enjoy” cake with the stares of gaped mouthed children surrounding you.
And I may or may not have had my heart torn from chest so great was my guilt.
I am comforted slightly by the fact that he had already made his birthday wish before The Incident, as it will henceforth be referred to, so I know he could not have wished me to drop dead on the spot.
I did it for him.
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