Yesterday was Jake’s second birthday. Finally, when asked how old he is, his favorite answer, “Two!” will be right.
We went on a special just Mommy-Daddy-Jakey date for dinner and dessert. Baby Nate spent the entire evening sleeping in the company of Dam-ma who caught-up on her Japanese natural and man-made disaster news. I predict nightmares.
The service at Pizza Antica was the best we’ve ever had and the birthday boy ate several pieces of Margherita. He had a ball opening his Curious George tin tea set and serving us “hot tea” before dinner. And then downed his peanut butter frosted chocolate cupcake after playing in the fountain at Santana Row and throwing rocks, despite the “Please do NOT throw rocks” sign.
It appeared to be the the perfect birthday night out. I thought so, two.
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