A Birthday Week of Pink Cake and Play
Our daughter's birthday ran a whole week this year, and most of it was pink. The main event was the cake at home, shaped like a cat — pink frosting, white ears and paws, licorice whiskers, black candy eyes. Cutting it meant sacrificing a whisker. She and her friend got slices on little pink plates and went at them with plastic forks, more or less successfully, while the grown-ups stood around the piano and watched. Then the candles, and she leaned in close over the cat's face to blow them out.
The party at the play gym was a separate day. A ball pit under a LET'S CELEBRATE banner, her sitting half-buried in it clutching one purple ball while adults leaned in from every side. Afterward everyone got a table seat, themed paper plates, juice boxes, and a cupcake with a single pink candle. Her friend in the orange shirt watched that flame like it might do something.
Somewhere in the week there was also a fair ride, pink plastic, and she came around the bend grinning with her mouth wide open like it was the fastest machine ever built.