Age of Majority

Somewhere while I wasn't watching my THIRD child turned 21. This means the majority of my children are now legal adults, and will behave like the mature, rational, thoughtful men they are.

Except when they are wrestling over the birthday cake, and their mother is shrieking "Stop that right now! You're going to knock it off the table! Really, I mean it! I can't get a picture of you that isn't blurred if you don't STAND STILL! Aw, c'mon, guys,"

It also was an occasion for me to grieve the baker I used to be when the Boys were little. Then the cakes were fine occasions for me to show off my artistic side, but apparently my artistic side is on a road trip somewhere with my ability to ride roller coasters and tolerate spicy food.

Think I'm kidding? I give you these examples of childhood birthday cakes:

A foot kicking a soccer ball, back in the days when we spent all of our time at the soccer field. And the foot is in a shoe that has licorice laces. Yup, that's how artsy I was.

Or this, the Winnie-the-Pooh that I drew FREE-HAND.

Darn. This looks like a mess in the picture, but it was the year Boy#3 and a friend smacked heads during a particularly raucous game at our church's New Year's Eve party and he spent his birthday in concussed confusion. The upper right hand corner of the cake features a muddled-looking face with question marks and fireworks shooting out of its scalp. We're all about the caring concern at MomQueenBee's house.

Also, I'm beginning to see why Three doesn't complain when his cake just says Happy Birthday.