Blowing & Drifting

When I walked in the door this evening, later than usual thanks to a 4 p.m. meeting, Julia immediately yelled out to me, "Daddy, do you want a chocoyit cake?" Who doesn't, of course, but I was at a loss as to why I was being quizzed about this. Turns out, the three girls were talking about my birthday, and of course any right-minded toddler would turn her attention to cake. "An' ice cweam. Daddy, do you want chocoyit ice cweam wif your cake?"