Baby Harbat turned two this weekend! All week she was ready for the big event, singing “Happy birthday” to herself and talking about cake and presents. On Friday afternoon she yelled for me to come into the laundry room.
“Sit down, Babbo!” she said as she patted the floor. Then she got mini tea light candles from the pantry, laid them on my leg in a row, and sang “Happy birthday” with gusto, blowing out the candles at the end. This girl knows how to party.
On the big day, she was too excited to take a nap. Which is really great when you’re trying to clean the house for guests, decorate, make cupcakes and other food, and wrap presents. At T-minus thirty minutes, my wife brought her into the dining room where she saw: A)decorated cupcakes, B)decorations, C)presents.
“Not yet, sweetie, just hold on.” Yeah, sure. This is the equivalent of balancing the dog biscuit on the dog’s nose. Cruel, cruel punishment. We managed to hold her off with some other snacks an distractions, but it was dicey for a moment.
The party went off superbly well and she was an angel throughout, dispensing kisses and hugs to all present. Thanks to everyone for the birthday wishes!
On the baking side of life, I made some ciabatta on Saturday before the party. This is probably the most rewarding and simple bread to make. When you toast it, the crust is crackly and flaky, the sweet nutty flavor of the crumb a beautiful fragrance. I’ve said it before but…
TEAM USA! TEAM USA! CIABATTA! CIABATTA!
I also put together some wheat sandwich and cinnamon raisin. It’s hard to be making these for customers and not getting to slice them open in the morning.
On Sunday I took BH to the lake to see ducks. She woke up at 5:49 AM. As soon as I walked in her room and heard a perky voice I knew I wasn’t going back to bed. No matter, we read books, had a lazy breakfast, then put on her Wellies so we could go to the lake. After a brief confusing moment—“Wait, you DON’T want me to take off my shoes before I go in the water?”—she was off and splashing, ready to strike out for deep water. Then she rode on my shoulders and put her fingers in my ears, and I realized I have perfect happiness with her.
Then I stepped in dog poop and ran over it with the wagon wheels. The Dalai Lama would be able to make a lesson out of this, I’m sure.
Writer, architect, father, husband.
balance, peter, balance, as in yin and yang.
You see…"I have perfect happiness with her" is really what it's all about and what is most important. The dog poop in the wagon wheels…well…that's what hoses are for.