Let Me Eat Cake

So yesterday was my birthday. 41 isn't so interesting as 40. It's just... there.

The day was fine though. Everyone let me sleep in a bit, and then we had a little family party in the morning (most of our family parties take place in the mornings, since that's the only time that everyone is guaranteed to be there).

My wife took a nice picture of the kids and me. I don't like to brag, but man do I have a great bunch of kids. (Not withstanding those periods when I want to kill them)



And I ate my first cake of the day.

After that, I took the kids to a birthday party for one of their friends. Their mom is my kidney girl, so I stuck around and swam and ate. More cake.

Then we went immediately to another birthday party for the kids. The parents are also friends, so I stayed along and helped. Went on a wagon ride, did some gladiator fighting (7 year olds go down easy) and had more... (gulp) cake.

Shortly after we arrived home, my wife and I went out to get together with friends. Guess what they had for me?

Cake.

Holy crap, I'll be tired of cake pretty soon.

Not *yet*.

But soon.

Almost time to turn in. Maybe I should have a little bedtime snack.

Cake, of course.