Rophone's grandpa passed away last week and the funeral was planned for Saturday. Bud's birthday. Not exactly what he was hoping for (Bud, not the grandpa. The grandpa has been hoping to go for a while, so I think he was exactly where he wanted to be-- back with his honey). But after I explained to Bud that we could just reschedule his party and it would make his birthday last even longer, he seemed to be okay.
We managed some present opening before we left for the funeral, with Bud reading all of his own cards before opening the gifts. (Must be the middle child in me that makes me want to be sure the cards aren't neglected or forgotten.) We didn't have much time, but present opening usually goes at a pretty rapid pace, anyway.
While we were at the funeral, I wished Bud happy birthday just over a gazillion times, afraid that he was feeling forgotten and uncelebrated. I knew I was going a little overboard when Bud said, "Mom! Please stop. I know already!" Looks like I've replaced those forgotten-on-my-birthday memories with my-mom-is-a-birthday-stalker type of memories. Mission accomplished.
After the funeral we came home to play with the presents Bud had been dying to play with all day and then had cupcakes and sang happy birthday. I went the store bought route with the cupcake, knowing that I'd be making his requested birthday cake the next day for our more leisurely celebration with my sister and her husband.
Happy Birthday, Bud! We love you!