The other day, I mentioned that Georgia had picked out a birthday cake for me. Well, Saturday we picked it up, and brought it home so we could begin gorging. Originally some more family was going to come into town, but with one thing and another it ended up being just the three of us and my folks. So there was more than enough birthday cake to go around.



Georgia, of course, got to keep all of the little stuffed toys that rode in the gondola on top, Winnie the Pooh and all his pals. Which, to be honest, is the reason she picked it out in the first place. Georgia was in charge all weekend, though, and wasn't about to leave anything to chance, and even blew out the candles herself when the time came, to make sure the job was done right.



Here's her, immediately after. As soon as the last candle was out, she looked up at the rest of us, and imperiously said, "Give me a clap!" as though surprised we weren't already showering her with applause. Only after we were all clapping vigorously did she look back and survey her handiwork, satisfied with the result. (And eyeing the rainbow of icing on the far side of the cake, which she'd already claimed as her own.)