A couple of days before Weston turned 6, I asked him why he was so excited for his birthday. His answer was pretty simple, "My friends are coming over and there will be party bags."
My heart sunk. We weren't giving him a party this year.
I tried to make it up to him with breakfast in bed.
I hoped that a dinner date with Mom and Dad would help him forget about party bags.
He ate ribs, got messy and I didn't even flinch when he squirted half the bottle of Devil's Spit on his plate and smeared rib juice on my cream shirt.
Grandma & Grandpa, aunts, uncles, cousins gathered around at the end of the night to sing him a loud and loving version of happy birthday as he blew out his 6 sparkler candles.
So it wasn't exactly what he asked for, but it turned out swell.
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