Today, at Art Camp, it is Laura’s 8th birthday.
Birthday means no chores. Birthday means you get carried, princess style, to breakfast.
Poetically, best friend, Laura, not 8, calls. She is en route up north.
Why don’t you drop in for breakfast, it is going to be special, I say. It’s a birthday over here. We are having every bad thing in the world; waffles with ice cream and maple syrup.
(selfishly, I love to show her off, and show off my campers as well- you have to witness the magic to believe it)
She says no, she has a full day ahead.