"Today's my birthday!" The freckled redhead cheerfully reminds me as we settle around a table for reading group.
"That's right!" I say. "Happy birthday!"
"We have cupcakes."
"Oh, for your class at the end of the day?"
"Well, I'll just have to stop by your classroom then," I tease.
"We'll have extra," he assures me.
"You can't eat a cupcake," another student at the table tells me, gesturing toward my baby bump. (She loves to talk about my baby, hoping it's a boy because "boys are cuter.")
"I can't?" I ask.
"You can't have wine!" She modifies it.
"Oh. Is there wine in the cupcakes?"
"No. Well my mom sometimes puts wine in cake," she says, grinning.
We start our class and time goes by and I forget all about cupcakes. Several hours later, after school has been out for about ten minutes, I'm sitting at my desk in the reading portable and talking with a coworker when a breathless boy pokes his head in the door.
"Did you want a cupcake? We have three left!"
"Oh wow! I was just kidding, but that's really nice of you. OK." I put on my coat and try to keep up with him as we slip across ice and snow back to the main building and race down the hallway to the front office. There his parents wait with the remaining cupcakes. His mom hands one to me.
"He made the cupcakes," his dad tells me proudly.
I admire the pirate flags and tasty-looking frosting. "That's awesome! Thank you so much." I tell the boy to have a great rest of his birthday and then watch his smile carry him out the door with his family. Then I slide back out to my desk and devour the cupcake. Bump agrees that it was delicious.