So I am not mentioning that we were all wide awake from 2 am to about 5 am. We woke up starving. Tonight I made southern fried chicken and french fries for dinner, which guaran-damn-tee'ed that my kids would get enough protein to stay asleep tonight. If that doesn't work, I'm bringing out the big guns and feeding them turkey tomorrow.
Now the house is scrubbed, the cellar is bulging with things to eat and drink, the flags which say "I'm 4!" are hung, the pin which says "I'm 4!" is made (because the party shop where we buy them is doing inventory, and you are not officially one year older around here until you have a pin that says you are), the birthday cake is made and Spongebob is sitting on top of it with that shit eating grin, (the cake was not baked, you can't bake if you haven't got a real oven, so it's a cheesecake-y thing), the presents are wrapped, the balloons are strung.
No, we haven't got any flags which say "I'm 63!". Nel has no birthday anymore, remember? She gave hers to Daan. She will remain 59 in perpetuity.
The new bike which Oma hunted the whole of Holland for is sitting in the middle of the floor festooned with balloons. (Oma had to hunt the whole of Holland because Daan is small. Very small. So small that the bikes in his size are mostly toys and not "real bikes" at all. Wonder of wonders, she found a real bike that small. Photos tomorrow.)
The train which Grandmary sent is wrapped in the most god awful shiny gold foil paper you have ever gone blind looking at. Which will please Daan endlessly, a real magpie that kid of mine.
And I am going to bed. For a week. Except that I have to wake up in time to take the pictures.
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