Dwayne wanted an ice cream cake on his birthday, so I went out and got him one. I brought it upstairs with the other groceries, but it wouldn't fit in the freezer in the kitchen. So I sent it back downstairs to the garage freezer with a child who will remain nameless. I said, "There's a bunch of stuff in the freezer. So be careful. Put it right on top." I meant right on top of the stuff that's inside the freezer.
Fast forward a few hours and Dwayne comes home from work. He finds his cake on the outside top of the freezer, melted. He quietly puts it back inside the freezer. He comes upstairs and calmly informs me what happened. There would be time enough for it to refreeze before we had to eat it. We both just laughed and sighed. Or maybe we sighed and then we laughed.
Something about this is representative of a forty-first birthday to me. Ten years ago, there may have been frustration and blame, but we're older now and wiser and we realize that life isn't perfect, but it is still good.
And just like that the cake wasn't perfect, but it was still good.