When I turned six my cake was a train made from cake made in bread pans. It was the coolest cake I ever had.
We played on the front lawn and I made my best friend annoyed because I wanted to run the three legged race with another kid instead. At the end of the day, Rob was still my best friend and the other kid was still my friend. But for the life of me, I can’t remember his name while “Robbie” comes to mind without a second thought.
We went looking to get a cake yesterday and the family bakery is gone. They’re mostly sucked into grocery stores now - I was hoping it would hold out but I knew that was to be futile hope in Calgary these days.
I throw a party for my son today. Invited some of his classmates, and some family friends. Part of his family.
The gifts may or may not be remembered. The party will be. A good time seemed to be had by all.
What impressed me was the interaction my son displayed. The kids were like glue. My son interacted with his friends like.. Like a six year old at his birthday party. Friends were friends, mix ‘em in a pot and enjoy flambed metaphor. Sure, it took a few minutes for the lot of them to settle in and figure out who everyone was, but they got started and the lot of them acted like they’d forever been friends. My son ran between the lot of them and kept touching base with every guest that was there. I’m impressed with how he kept all the others involved.
Great kids. Great friends. I’m very proud of all of them.
When I escape the beauracracy and look beyond the frustration of being an EOW-Dad, you can get a lot of faith in our future. We’ve got a great crop of six year olds coming up. How about we put the whole damned country in the middle of a “Let’s Play” and let them just take over now for a while? Let the world come down to who will run the three-legged race with each other.
After all, they’re going to be the ones to deal without a family bakery on the corner that makes the good cakes.