Today is Buddy's Birthday

Hello friends,
Today is Buddy's birthday. Those of you who know our family are probably asking yourselves, "Who in the world is Buddy?" That is precisely the question I got from my husband when I called him this afternoon to inform him that we would be having a birthday dinner party for Buddy tonight. Buddy is my recently-new-to-9-year-old's brand new stuffed dog. He's cute, really. And he can bark, and growl, and whimper, and suck on a bottle (not sure why), and he came with a cute little stethoscope which makes his heart beat really loud when you hold it up to his glowing red heart. I know what you're thinking...pretty impressive, huh?!? Rachel spent $30 of her birthday money to purchase Buddy from Target last week. Since that time, Buddy has been everywhere we have, including church (he was well-behaved and quite attentive). Rachel informed me this past weekend that Buddy's birthday is April 1, that he would be one year old, and that he would be expecting a birthday party. Apparently he had shared this expectation with her. I reminded her that Buddy was stuffed and could not do the typical birthday activities, like open presents, blow out candles, or even actually eat his own birthday cake. She was undeterred, and told me not to worry, she would help him. At this point in our story, I think I need to go back a bit in time and tell you about a conversation I had with her on her 9th birthday, which fell on March 19 this year (well, uhhmm, every year). The night of Rachel's birthday, after we had come home from the Mexican restaurant where she wore a HUGE sombrero while the staff sang "Happy Birthday" slightly off-key and with a definite Spanish accent, she had some trouble getting to sleep. I automatically assumed it was due to the dessert at the Mexican restaurant, which, by the way, one of the waitresses had smeared on Rachel's nose at the end of the birthday song. After Rachel, the human yo-yo, had crawled back into bed for the 10th time, I decided I had to get down to the bottom of the problem (and I don't mean a spanking, though the thought did cross my mind before I remembered it was her birthday). I went up to her room, sat down on the bed beside her, and shot straight, "What's your problem?" She looked up at me with those big, beautiful, brown eyes, and asked, "Mom, it won't be my birthday anymore when I wake up, will it?" I agreed with her that it would not and asked her if that's why she wouldn't go to sleep. "Mom," she said, "Nobody will remember me tomorrow." Melt. There I was, putty in her hand, soft as a bunny's bottom, backbone gone. I took her into my arms, hugged her tight (until she told me she couldn't breathe), and told her I would remember her tomorrow, and every morrow, and would love her every one. She kissed me on the cheek, told me she loved me, rolled over, and went to sleep. I will remember that moment until the day I die. I do have an idea of why she felt that way. She is the youngest of seven, after all, and does get overlooked sometimes, no matter how hard she tries not to be. And I will say that my husband made a point of telling her for days afterward, every day, that he remembered her. But back to my Buddy story. I think she must have been feeling forgotten again, which is why Buddy needed a birthday party. Then again, maybe she only wanted cake. In any case, plans for Buddy's birthday party began yesterday with menu planning. Rachel insisted on steak, since dogs love steak, as we all know. So today, we went to the grocery store (no, I didn't make a special trip; I was going anyway). Rachel must have been praying because yesterday I'd told her there was NO WAY I was buying steak for Buddy's birthday party when NONE of our human family had ever had steak for any of our birthdays. While Krogering today, we found two (count 'em...two) round steaks on sale as manager's specials, which basically means that they had to be sold today or donated to the pound for real dog food. I bought the steaks. Rachel had also chosen macaroni and cheese for Buddy, since he loves it SOOOOO much. Rachel still had some of her birthday money left, so she bought a birthday balloon for Buddy (Scooby Doo, which I personally felt was very appropriate) and a matching birthday candle. She also bought some "snacks" for the party. I agreed to buy the cake (chocolate angel food cake with strawberries and whipped cream topping it off). When we got home, I started dinner while Rachel decorated. Of course, Buddy could not be in the room because it was going to be a surprise party after all. Rachel put a vase of paper flowers she and her sister had made in the middle of the table, surrounded by off-white cloth napkins spread out very artistically. She covered the napkins with Cheddar Cheese Goldfish, Cheddar Bunnies, and laid out a Baby Ruth candy bar for each person at the table. Of course, Buddy had his own chair with a balloon tied to it, and his own Baby Ruth bar. We all signed a card for Buddy, and my 15 and 13 year-old sons even wrapped up some quarters to give to him. Rachel wrapped up the stuff that came with him and put it by his place at the table.


But I think the best gift was from my daughter Emily, who wrote him the following poem:Happy birthday, Buddy!There's no one good as you.You've been actin' kinda funky.I guess you have the flu.But that does not matter,Your owner's just the same.Your family's also very weird,But so what? Who's to blame?She's good!!! Anyway, when my husband got home from work, I had the steaks grilled, the mac and cheese ready, baked beans out, and salad makins out. My 15-year-old son lamented several times that we hadn't even done this much for HIS birthday!! "I mean, STEAK!?!" he exclaimed. We all sat down at the table and had a wonderful meal. Buddy seemed to be enjoying it tremendously (he had his face stuffed down into a pile of Cheddar Bunnies)!! After dinner, Buddy opened his presents (with some help from Rachel), and seemed to be well-pleased. And then came the best part!! We lit the Scooby candle, stuck it in a piece of chocolate angel food cake, and sang Happy Birthday to Buddy. He blew out the candle (with some help from Rachel). And we all dug in. As we sat back in our chairs, stuffed and satiated, reflecting on the past year, my 15-year-old spoke up, "Mom," he said, "Did I mention that tomorrow is Wolfy's birthday?" Aaaaarrrrrggghhhhh!
Blessings,Donna