Yesterday was my dog's birthday and, after being housebound for 16 weeks, I decided to show my lame family what a real dog party was all about.
When I sat Cooper at the kitchen table and put the birthday cake in front of him, blazing with candles, my dad said urgently, "Don't let him have that! He'll burn himself!" Yes, I am so reliable that my own father thought I'd let my dog have a cake while it was on fire. Definitely a life high point.
I started singing the birthday song and my mom and dad reluctantly joined in. They sounded miserable and I saw in their concerned faces all hopes for marrying off their oldest daughter and any possible grandchildren floating out the window. They lasted less than one verse, the party poopers.