March 22, 2021:
Cake envy.
As our four-year-old author blows out his candles, the pretty blonde by his shoulder meditates frosting.
I remember that party. I cheated at "pin the tail on the donkey". I believe there was a piñata.
Today our sixty-something-year-old author has no idea who these children are.
It's not forgetfulness. I've never known who they are. Presumably they were neighborhood kids, or perhaps classmates, or most likely kids of friends of the organizers — the sitters who looked after me while my mother worked.
Maybe she's Courtney Love.
I hope she got a corner piece.