And you...well, you are getting large. Very large and very old. But, I'm still larger and older than you, so there.
This year your cake, it was SOME LARGE. Your architect father....had to measure it, because that's what he does when people ask how big something is? He grabs the tape measure and with a little hop in his step says, "Well let's see how big this ___ is." So, he measured your cake and then he compared it to what we set as the size standard in our house.
You and your brother's heads. Because it can't be called big, unless it's bigger than those noggins. Your head...it's bigger than mine, yes it's true. And it's been bigger than mine since you were about three years old. How big are you going to get?!
You got the part of a hippopotamus in a play that was on your birthday. It was awesome. You thought it was terrible that you had to be in a play on your special day. I know this because you told me about three trillion times.
You got a ginormous cake this year. First you wanted chocolate pie, then pudding, then cheesecake, then angel food cake, yes angel food cake was definitely what you wanted. For good measure I asked once more what kind of cake you wanted and you said, "Oh, I don't care, how about chocolate with strawberries on top dipped in chocolate or devil's food cake would be good or one of those ice cream cakes, but whatever I don't care." Right.
You are impossible. Impossibly dramatic. Impossibly funny. Impossibly in a world I can't fathom entering. You start every conversation with me like this, "Mom..." even though I'm sitting right next to you. I usually say, "I'm right here, I haven't moved since you asked me the last question, you know, the one that had nothing to do with what we are studying?". You have this uncanny ability to pay attention to what I'm saying and then ask me a stupid question about Harry Potter. If I ask what I just said you'll repeat what I said like you're a tape recorder. It's very annoying. We've had days that I had to tell you to stop quoting people/movies/books etc. and it's actually difficult for you.
You are not yet too cool to react to how much you love your birthday. You made me listen to the countdown to the day for, oh let's see, FOUR MONTHS! Yeah, and then you forgot my birthday, which is a mere four days after yours. Uh-huh. We were never so glad that your birthday was OVER. But, the excitement you put in it made all of us more excited than we ever should have been.
I tried to put as many flavors as possible in your cake. That way you didn't regret not choosing one over the other. Your welcome. I love you. Please stop growing up so stinkin' fast.