Happy Birthday, Papi!

Dr. Daddy is turning 36 today. A good age to receive your first handwritten card from your little girl, who carefully copied P ("a stick with a nose") A ("a roof with a step") P and I ("a stick with a dot on top"), and equally carefully wrote out her own name on the inside of the card, to sign off on a "Papi and Tara... here's two googely eyes... Papi's nose... the legs... Papi, do you like my big smile?" No question, it's a treat, even though she could not finish singing her Happy Birthday cause she got distracted by having to immediately thrust a present at Papi, then blow out his candle, and go into an endless loop of requesting it be re-lit for more blowing-out.


To make the day extra special, we called Dr. Daddy home from work early cause Tara's leg hurt, she could not "walk very well", and had to be carried everywhere by Mummy and Baby. Luckily she experienced a miracle cure after mum called the doctor for an appointment, which unfortunately was after we'd called Jose home. Treat number one. Treat number two: Because we'd been too busy making him a cake and a card I'd not gotten round to washing any of huge pile of yesterday's dishes. He hates smelly kitchen mess (who doesn't). Treat number three: Cause we'd been too busy (see above, treat two), there was no dinner at all either. Thank heavens for takeaway treats, even though, treat four, the poor man had to go and collect the delivery due to the foreign gentleman at the other end of the phone being unable to get our address right (Me: "R. RRRR." Him: "Oh. O?" Me: "Let's make that a collection.").

Well, well, a fine day after all, Papi. While there's cake and love... Happy birthday, Papi!


The next special date for the family is Baby's birthday. Five weeks to go.