"It's my BIRTHDAY?"

As the spoiled Princess of Weim napped peacefully this morning on her queen-sized bed with memory foam topper, I, her loyal and dutiful subject, leaned over and gently sang “Happy Birthday” to her. She was largely unmoved by this display of affection. Perhaps she was expecting an orchestral arrangement. Maybe she just had gas. Sweet little Olive turned two today. It’s been an incredibly joyful two years with you Olive. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.