Daddy's birthday cake sat in front of him aflame.
Five candles flared in the dining room; the joke being that we rounded up and had one for each decade, one for good luck.
"Daddy, blow out your candles."
I explained that I needed to make a wish before I blew them out. "What should I wish for?"
"Dish"
We are all confused. Maybe she just wants the cake now, on her dish. Makes sense. We give a few guesses, all of which are given a shake. She is staring at the cake.
Daddy asks again, "What should I wish for?
A little girl could wish for so many things. Dolls, toys, really, the list is endless. But we're all wrong.
She finally, to all of our surprise, figures out another way of saying the word we all couldn't understand. The thing she would wish for, "A dolphin."
Maybe I will wish for one, but I'm not sure where we'll keep it.
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