Me: (tucking Hank in bed) What’s up, buddy? Got ants in your pants?
Hank: (giggling) No! (pause) I just… It’s just… Can I talk to you about something?
Me: Claro (of course)!
Hank: Your birthday is on Friday.
Hank: And I didn’t make you anything or buy you anything and I am worried because on Friday I have swimming school and Papa has class and I am running out of time. I just want your day to be special, but now I can’t make something without you knowing and I also don’t know what kind of present you would want.
Me: You are doing the right thing by talking to me about this. You are not a mind reader. How could you possibly work all this out on your own? It is hard enough for an adult to settle on a birthday surprise, let alone an eight year old.
Hank: It’s your turn for something nice and I want to give you something nice on Friday.
Me: (hand on my heart) I thank you in advance. Have you spoken to your papa about this?
Hank: Not really and he is really busy with his work paper.
Me: True, but you can ask him in the morning on the way to school.
Hank: That’s a good idea. Can you remind me to ask him in the morning so I don’t forget?
Me: No problem.
Hank: And if you have any ideas can you please tell me because I don’t think I will have time to make something, but I have euros saved so I can afford to buy you something and that is what I want to do.
Me: Wow. I am honored you would dip into your savings for me. You talk that idea over with your papa. He has birthday ideas in mind for me, I am sure. Your papa and I never make each other guess about presents. It is less romantic to be surprised with something unsuited than something charming. Now are you done with your worries for the day?
Hank: Almost, now I am worried about the cake. You have to have a cake.
Me: Oh, I am going to make a vanilla cake with lemon butter cream frosting. I already have all the ingredients.
Hank: Yum and candles?
Me: I have those, too.
Hank: Okay (sigh) now I am done with my worries. I am off to Bedfordshire.
Me: (kissing his cheek) It’s a perfect night for sailing. Sweet dreams.
Hank: Love you.
Me: Same, same.