When I came upstairs from my 6 am call this morning, Pete said to me, 'I had gazpacho this morning.' I responded dumbly, 'Cold soup?' completely forgetting that our sweet girl is known as Soupy around here. And I know Soupy is a terrible nickname for a girl. I mean, my mom was nice enough to call me 'Cupcake'. I even went so far as to make Soupy a cupcake dress (well, I sort of cut it out, sewed the easy parts and then took something called 'interfacing' and 'puffed sleeves' over to my mom for help) that she refused to wear on her birthday. Aren't they sweet? It's probably for the best since Aunt Feather played cake with her and stuff her full of ice cream and frosting. But, honestly, when you look this good doing it, why would you stop?
Wait. This is someone else's birthday. And I know there are a lot of candles on there. Harry said we had to use them all because the birthday girl was so old. I managed to not kick him.
But, I'm a little worried about what might happen to this unsuspecting pile of fur. I bet if he runs down the steps at 9 pm and yells, 'Daddy! You're home!' he won't get sent right back to bed, either.
So, confess here. When I was tucking this bowl of soup into bed she said, 'I yuv you too, Mom. I make you happy. Will you read one more book? Yast one?' I read two more. How can you not?