Today is my son’s birthday. He is two years old. And yes, he throws tantrums over the wrong color bowl, and invents ingenius ways to climb the pantry shelves to get to the suckers. He is a normal, happy (usually) two year old who has no idea that it is his birthday. He will be content to get no presents, eat no cake, and basically pursue his own agenda of sucker-stealing and hopping.

However, he has two older sisters who are VERY aware that it is his birthday, and are quite distraught that nary a candle has been blown. Where are the presents? We need to go to the store right now! He will be sad! Bring on the cake! Do you think he likes chocolate best? While I’m thinking “Hmmm….maybe I’ll just allow him to get to the suckers and call it a day,” they’re wondering which kids to invite to the party.

I guess this means I have to acknowledge his birthday in some way. I was planning on simply having family over on Sunday for cake and ice cream, but that’s not nearly enough! That’s 4 days away! He can’t wait that long for presents. It’s simply inhumane, and my girls are going to call children’s services on me, just as soon as they learn how to read the phone book.

Maybe I can just wrap up an old toy of his, and bake blackberry cobbler for his cake. (I am, after all, the master of growing blackberries) Maybe that’ll satisfy the little social workers. But it doesn’t take a fortune teller to see that there’s a trip to the toy aisle of Wal-Mart in my future. And I don’t have to be clairvoyant to know that trip will probably include lots of whining for various girl toys on display, totally inappropriate for a two-year-boy who doesn’t even know it’s his birthday.