So I had a birthday over the weekend.
A big one.
It was an enormous amount of fun. Friends piled into my usually quiet house and I loved every moment of it. Especially a newly implemented tradition I intermittently refer to as either the Cake Parade or Cake Walk (this is only the third year I've done it, so I have some time to let a name settle.)
Anyway. All this really consists of is me picking up my own cake at Resch's bakery on Livingston Ave. and digging into that box with a fork on the drive back home. Then I proceed to spend the day taking the cake with me wherever I care to go, with a stack of plates and forks. Last year, the West High Homecoming parade came down my friend Mary's street, so I walked my cake over and enjoyed it with her family and other neighbors who either dropped by, or whom I saw on my way home.
This year, since I had a party (and I suppose it could be considered tacky to bring a half-eaten cake...) I got two cakes. I took a slice over to neighbors on both sides and had some for lunch.
Forget the presents (not that I don't like presents), forget the booze (although I did enjoy some delicious bourbon-soaked cherries...). Give me cake.
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