In other birthday news,

Ray and I went to a birthday party for a little girl that Ray plays with. Now here I have to figure out what I want to say. Every time Ray runs around with this kid, I pity her and feel proud of the way we’re raising Ray.

After all the presents were unwrapped and the balloons were popped, the ice cream cake had been eaten and the relatives had wandered off, the little girl stopped screaming “mine!” every time Ray touched something and sat down with her to play. They colored and tried to blow bubbles. I took them out to the park. We had time to go down the slide a couple of times, and then we had to walk back.

On the way back, the little girl said, “We went down the slide five times.”

I said, “We have to remember that we need to go down all the slides next time. And push each other on the swings.”

She said, “Okay.”

On the slide, Ray tried to push her way past this girl on the stairs. I told her to say she was sorry, and she did. The other girl said, “That’s okay,” and they went up the stairs together.