The first birthday.
It was unsurprising the parents would throw a party to commemorate the special occasion. Cake, candle, presents, singing and clapping. Even if the tot of honour wouldn’t really understand what was going on.
I just wished I wasn’t strung along for the madness, but Mum insisted I went with it. Paid me handsomely to clam up the complaints and head down to the shops for something appropriate.
“I don’t think we should be endorsing this charade,” I said, but my protests fell on deaf ears.
“Your aunt would really appreciate this. He’s her first child, after all.”
Happy Birthday
