More than a cake

So yesterday was my 69th birthday. We went to my twin sisters & my sons house for lunch to celebrate.

I really appreciated my sons' effort at the surprise cake he made for us. He's never made a cake in his life. We sang Happy birthday but we all decided not to light 69 candles in case it set the smoke detectors off. He put a few on for traditions sake.

We bought some KFC and enjoyed the family feast barrell. We had just enough chicken to feed four adults and we found we wouldn't need to have a cooked dinner.

This worked out well as I was suffering with a fibromyalgia flare and in fact almost didn't make it to their place for lunch. You know how it is: you arrange something for the next day, and you don't have any spoons when you wake up.

But as Chris pointed out, he was driving and I didn't have to do anything except sit there. So I went.

The trip is one and a half hours each way and I was so tired on the way home that I fell asleep in the car, garotting myself on the seat belt.

So not having to cook when I got home was a blessing. We just had some fruit and a cup of tea. It was enough.

My son lives with my twin who is ill with lupus. He's her carer. He cooks plain meals but never has baked a cake before. So when he brought out his birthday cake, I was more than a little surprised: and the other surprise was that it tasted good as well!

As we blew out the candles, his face was glowing with pride and satisfaction. I saw more than cake yesterday: I saw love!