When You Are Seven
When you turn seven, you get to ask Mom for a special breakfast. In this case, gingerbread scones. And Mom will put a candle in the scone and sing.
Then you get to choose what you want for dinner – and you decide to go to Red Robin. And you get to open a couple of presents (the rest are waiting until the party).
And the presents are just what you’ve always wanted.
But because you are still you, even though you are seven, ice cream holds absolutely no appeal.
So, even though you enjoyed the singing from the staff, you pass the ice cream to your siblings (who appreciate your generosity) and let Mom and Dad order you the stack of donuts instead. And then you eat exactly one birthday donut. Because you’d rather have another scone at home, honestly.
Some things will never change.