Scrunch had a birthday.

While my parents were here for Scrunch's birthday, I happened to mention that maybe, just maybe, we shouldn't let her think she should get everything she asks for and that the world does not revolve entirely around her. To this my dad responded with a, "Why? We still let you believe it." What could I say as I was busy stuffing my face with a piece of Hummingbird Cake that had been carefully, and lovingly packaged for the 300mile trip, just as requested? How do you argue with that?

In short...she got her PINK strawberry cupcakes, pink ponies, a special date with Mom, Papa, and Porkchop, PINK balloons. And no birthday is complete around here without PINK strawberry milk and donuts. Waffles. Bacon. For the love! Do not forget the bacon. Books, Princess gowns, and probably the thing I wish I had the most pictures of but don't have a single one, she got Gramps to pretend to be the Beast.

Checking out the goods under the birthday tree. (Next month it will be the Valentine's Day Tree, and then the Easter Tree, etc, etc. We call it our everything tree.)

How convenient that her birthday fell on the same day as school and the day Papa was the parent volunteer. She thought the whole day at pre-school was her party. We printed up the baggies for her to take carmel popcorn to share.

 Birfday, Shmirfday! Get me another orange!

But ice cream is better! I don't even care who's birthday it is.