Dad, Terry, and I had been goofing off, making silly faces and fart noises, and laughing and giggling about it, when a few minutes later Mom returned with a happy baby in her arms, who had been sucking on a pacifier, but had become fussy once again.
"Alright," my mom said, quite obviously tired, "who's ready for some cake?"
My eyes lit up, and I raised my hand excitedly. "I am!" I nearly shouted.
Mom went over to the oven, grabbed a pair of oven mitts, and removed a one layer cake from the oven, still warm. The smell of vanilla wafted through the air as my mother brought the cake nearer. She had decorated it beforehand, and it looked good! Dad had gotten up from his seat to rummage through a drawer for something and returned right as she set the cake down on a platter in front of me. I looked up at my father with a grin that spread from ear to ear.
"How many years old are you now, Johnny?" Dad teased as he gazed back at me, a box of candles in his hands.
I thought for a second and replied gleefully, holding up my hands, "Six!"
"Then, six candles it is!" Dad said, as he sunk each candle into the cake in no real order.
I could see my brother eyeing the cake in the now dimly lit room. Both of us wanted some of that delectable dessert. Dad lit the candles with a match, then turned off the lights. The candles' flames danced shadow puppets all over the room, illuminating us all in a soft glow, and Mom smiled and said, "Everyone ready?"
They all sang happy birthday to me, all those that could at least. Then I blew out the candles, after which Dad and Mom applauded. The cake was dished out, and Mom, Dad, Terry and I ate our portions, while Arabella made a mess of herself, which Mom cleaned up with a wet napkin.