I don’t know when Moonie’s birthday is. But when he found out that people celebrate birthdays with cake, he insisted that EVERY day was his birthday.

We compromised; first, he can celebrate each April 25th as “Gotcha Day,” as it’s the day I found and adopted him from an antique store, with his very own Moonie cake. Second, he can share cake with people when they celebrate their birthdays throughout the year. He readily accepted.

Um, Moonie, I said SHARE the cake. You look a little like you want to do more than that.

Moonie?

“I’m just looking, Mama!”

Oh, OK.

(I hear a soft thud, and the box holding the birthday cake quivers.)

“Moonie? What was that? Did – did you just fall into the cake?”

(slurping noises)

“Moonie?”

The slurping noises stop.

“Um, maybe a little, Mama?…Uh oh.”

“Uh oh what? What’s going on in there, Moonie?” I peer over the side of the giant cardboard box and gasp.

Moonie: (angelic, frosting-rimmed smile)

Me: (sigh)