I really don’t remember my own 15th birthday. Have to ask my mother.
All I know is that our boy wants his privacy to be respected – no 15 marks on the cake, nor a name… nothing.
I don’t mind. If you are not in a party mood, why pretending to be?
Happy birthday, son, anyway.
The cake was not bad, you know? A real homemade Black forest cake with my precious cherries in almond syrup. Yum.
A temptation he could not resist, but that’s off the record.
It seems that Mindy was having her happy hour…
(she is not really smiling, she is stone asleep with her eyes wide open. Than’t why I could use the flash, a paraphernalia she could not stand because she so afraid of storms and lightning)