So, I picked Will up this afternoon and asked how his birthday school day was? He said, "It's just terrible. I have so much homework! The teachers gave me all this math and social studies and I have to read and IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! I'm not going to get to eat my birthday roast until 2 in the morning."
The little guy had been thinking about his birthday dinner all day. You know, some days I think about food. Maybe more than I should. He could be genetically mine.
Will found out the hard truth today that your birthday is not a day off, unless you are George Washington or Martin Luther King. Even Abraham Lincoln does homework on his birthday, and he has to do it on a coal shovel. If he wants a "birthday free pass", he's going to have to do something spectacular and have a holiday named in his honor. Right now, we're just trying to accomplish 7th grade math. That would be spectacular.
It's 7:30 and he's still working on math, and I'm sitting with him for moral support (really, that's all I'm equipped to do). He did get his birthday roast - and cake! Don't tell anyone, but if he finishes all his work, I might give him a second piece.
(Blurry Kevin. He doesn't know not to move when I'm taking pictures. He might have been excited about cake, too.)
(Will told Kevin we put the year of his birth on the cake. Oh, and Emma is in her jammies. We're all about that here).