My littlest one will turn six tomorrow. As with our family tradition, we will have a small cake and nice dinner at home and that's it. I'm surprising her with a pink cake with a picture of Barbie (I know! I relented because she told the husband she would like a Barbie cake and I just felt like I *had* to get her the cake she wants. Especially after she mentioned to the husband in a very mature and matter-of-fact the reason why we don't have big birthday parties).
So as we were just chatting, after reading a book on Ballerina, she asked me how I knew her birthday is the 18th of December every year. I told her I was there when it all happened.
Six years on, and she still cracks me up.
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