A Perfectly Reasonable Request

Do you have a five year old? Today, I do. On this day, five years ago, Dominic made a speedy entrance, before my water broke, before my midwife arrived, before I could really prepare myself for the ride.

He's my only boy so far, and he's also my only hearing kid so far. While Gianna and Pia have been shuffled off to school at ages younger than I'd have thought ideal, he's been hanging out with me full time. Dom has crazy hair and he can be explosive and shy. He's the kid who will refute whatever you say; he has a penchant for taking something that should be enjoyable and peaceful and making it fraught with an argument.

He also comes up with the most interesting thoughts, usually too early in the morning for me to fully process them.

"The earth is in the sky, mom, but we can't touch the sky." What am I supposed to do with this observation at six in the morning?

Everyday, he wakes from a dead sleep by literally jumping out of bed. He always asks, "Is it morning yet?" and when I reply that it is, he always responds with, "Yes!" Like the world is his oyster, like he just can't wait to pepper me with confusing questions.

"Mom, is a cheetah faster than a cheetah?" I never know what the correct answer is.

It's a good thing his personality demands attention; sandwiched between my two medically managed girls, he could get lost in the shuffle, but he generally doesn't. He needs me to play football and tag with him, to watch him "curve" around the yard while he's running fast, to snuggle him on the couch.

He also needs a birthday cake for tomorrow's party. I've made him a dinosaur cake, and a cake shaped like a hammerhead shark, and last year a cake with an ocean scene on it complete with mini plastic sea life embedded in frosting. (What did mothers do before Pinterest I ask you?) So I suppose it wasn't fair to be shocked when asked what sort of cake he wanted, he said, "A caracal cake."

A caracal? A caracal. Do you even KNOW what a caracal is, dear reader? I do, because lately the interest in sharks has shifted to predatory, large cats, and I've been reading a lot of books regarding such creatures. I expressed my fear to him that my cake creating skills may have reached their zenith a few birthdays ago and maybe we should think of something else. Only the Dom can use such a reassuring tone while saying something completely unhelpful,

"It's ok, mom. I know all the features. I will just tell them to you. It needs long legs, tall ears, and a fierce face." Got it.

Happy Birthday to The Dom, life sure is more interesting with you around!