Bday

It’s my birthday party. A boy’s XL yellow tee-shirt lays neatly folded in it’s GAP gift box, destined never to be worn. Under a blanket, there’s a dresser with drawers lined in floral wax paper. Pa and Linda send a fifty dollar check which will forever sit in the birthday card and never be cashed. The traditional hazelnut cake with chocolate shavings from the Gaston Avenue Bakery sits gloriously in it’s cake box, wrapped up in red and white striped wax string. After eating three bites, I’ll save my slice in the refrigerator. Tomorrow morning I’ll eat it for breakfast.