Today, he crept into our bed in the dark pre-dawn hours, and we sang Happy Birthday to him, in sleep roughened voices. When we were finished, he said "Sing it again!" And we did.
He had pancakes and strawberry milk for breakfast, even though he really wanted muffins.
He can't say "birthday," so he calls it his "burpday."
His favorite playmates have another snow day, which suits him just fine.
He is looking forward to his chocolate cake with chocolate icing tonight.
He is our brightest, sunniest spot in this bleak, deep winter, and today he is three.
Happy Birthday, Bun -- we love you!