Simply Recipes

July is birthday month in my family.

I dont blame her.

Growing up, I wished that I could have a birthday to myself too.

When I was young, every birthday was the same.

The poor cake decorator squeezed every single name onto the surface of the cake.

Those birthdays were beautiful.

But those birthdays never belonged to justme.I envied my cousins and their birthdaysthey got to choose their own cake.

How everyone crowded them, singing just their name.

In our century-old apartment by the railroad track in Chicago, he sang a birthday song just for me.

I felt he saw me as myself, andformyself.

On my daughters first birthday, we threw a big bash at the community center down the street.

There were balloons and streamers, and a cake that could feed 30 people.

In pictures from the party, Im holding her in my arms in front of the buffet table.

When we bathed her afterwards, tiny yellow crumbs fell into the bathwater.

I had a weirdly animalistic instinct to lick the chocolate frosting off her round little cheeks.

Then he said, Okay, now we have to think aboutyourcake.

Lets just skip it.

We have enough leftover cake, right?

He sat up, aghast.

We cant skipyourbirthday cake.

That would be like skipping your birthday.

And we arenotdoing that.

Sometimes, its very easy to see why I married that man.

Since our daughters first birthday, our family has committed to two cakes every July.

We could just as easily share a cake or go with a cake and cookies.

But instead, encouraged by my husband, we make it a point to serve two different cakes.

Sometimes, I bake her cake.

Arent we lucky to get two cakes, I whispered in her ear.

Not listening, she crammed another forkful into her mouth.

She wont know any different, so to her, two cakes doesnt represent luck at all.

Its just the way life is.

The start of July will always mean two cakes.

Sometimes, the nicest gifts of love are the invisible ones.

Afterwards, the fridge is full of cake.

We freeze some, and then inevitably forget about it.

A little excessive, sure, but baked with meaning through and through.