Bundle of Joy

And Daniel. Obviously I can’t forget that it’s where Daniel is, too – with his broad, tall shoulders and his handsome face and his head full of brown hair, that doesn’t look a day older than his son’s, even though I’d expect a guy that much older than I am to be balding by now.

“I mean, the kid’s dad has to feel guilty about divorcing his mom or something, or about being gone at work all the time, to throw a party fit for a king for a six year old,” Michelle rants on and on.

My ears prick up a bit at the part where she says maybe he’s divorced.

Probably he is, since, again, I didn’t see a ring, but some people take it off to ski, lest they lose it in the snow. Still, I don’t want to get my hopes up.

“I wonder how big of a check he wrote to the resort,” Michelle says.

I’m getting nervous that the young partygoers will be able to hear us soon, even if they are just kids and won’t understand.

And what if Daniel were to overhear?

“Well, let’s not forget that checks like that pay for us to have our jobs,” I whisper back to her. “We need to be nice to the guests.”

I turn to glare at her, but she just rolls her eyes. It’s then that I notice that Jason and Matt are behind us.

One of them is carrying the heavy cake and the other one is carrying some kind of wired contraption that looks like the miniature version of a ramp that a truck drives up when it needs to be fixed. The name of it escapes my memory, if I ever even knew what it was called.

Let’s just say that I make a better ski instructor than waitress or truck mechanic.

“Here, I’ll help you,” Daniel says, rushing up to relieve me of the tray.

“It’s fine,” I tell him, at the same time that Michelle huffs under her breath, “Oh, sure, help the pretty girl.”

“Whatever,” Matt jokes, as he and Jason start setting up the cake. “No one helped us carry these monstrosities.”

He sees Daniel and adds, “No offense, sir.”

“None taken,” Daniel says, offering a good-natured chuckle.

Then his tone of voice turns somewhat apologetic.

“I know this cake was a bit of an extravagance, but Charlie’s former nanny suggested it, back when she was still working for us. Charlie overheard and couldn’t get the idea out of his head, even after the nanny left. Or maybe he misses the nanny and that’s why he kept insisting on this cake.”

“It’s no problem,” Jason says. “We aim to please the customer.”

I shoot Michelle a glance that says, “See? That’s how we should be.”

They plug in the cake – now, that’s a phrase I never thought I’d have to utter – and suddenly Charlie and his friends are surrounding it.

“It’s Optimus Prime!” Charlie shouts, and all his friends are clapping.

I shoot a blank look at Daniel, who fills me in.

“It’s a Transformer,” he says. “Like, Bumblebee? But this one is the one who is in charge of all the Transformers.”

“I see,” I tell him, except I only kind of do.

I’m definitely not up to date on movies or TV shows. Especially not those that are aimed at kids.

“Now everyone has to sing me happy birthday!” Charlie demands.

“Charlie!” Daniel snaps. “Don’t whine and bark orders to your friends!”

Then Charlie makes an “oops” face. It’s true that he was being whiny, but there’s a cute smile on his face that makes me want to forgive him immediately for his transgression.

“Sorry, Daddy,” he says.

“You have to wait for this first,” Jason instructs, with a child-like excitement in his own voice as he lights two candle strings on top of the robot-cake’s head, which look like antennas.

Charlie’s friends sing him Happy Birthday and then Charlie blows out the candles. Suddenly, Jason pushes a button near the cake, and it begins to talk!

“Autobots, roll out!” it says.

And then, the cake seems to come to life, expanding into three different layers. The first is one set of wheels; the second is another, and the third is the front part of the truck, which now looks like a head standing on top of a body.

“Wow!” everyone, including me, shouts.

Even Michelle looks a little impressed. I’ve never seen a cake that transforms from a truck to a robot before, and apparently, neither has she.

This cake is the bomb and I will definitely have to congratulate Sally on a job very well done. It’s half cake, half robot – just like a Transformer.

While everyone is still clapping, Charlie runs over to me and says, “I want some juice now!”

He starts to reach out to take the juice from the tray. Daniel is quick to remind him to say please, and I pull the tray back a bit to give him time to listen to his dad.