Daniel turns five today.
He was up at dawn this morning, suffering with the beginnings of a cold. A runny nose with a sore throat. Poor birthday boy.
He woke me up to ask for a drink and some medicine, and I willed myself out of bed and down the stairs to get him what he needed.
Afterwards, I followed him back up the stairs and we stopped outside my bedroom door. Of course he would be coming back to bed with me. That’s what he does when he wakes in the early morning. He rests for a short while longer with me.
“Actually,” Daniel interrupted as I reached for the doorknob, “I will sleep in my bed.”
“I don’t need you,” he explained cheerfully before marching toward his room.
I followed him there and tucked him in. I gave him a birthday kiss and left him there to sleep like a big boy, in his own bed.
When we got up this morning, he gave me his birthday cake request:
“I want it to be a big, tall cake — like a wedding cake — with a triceratops on the top, and decorated with lemons all around it.”
That much will be easy.