Five Looms Near

The Verbalist is feverishly waiting for his fifth birthday, that magical birthday when he will be able to enjoy a myriad of endevours previously denied. School, allowance, pharoah to his sisters' Israelites, supervising the construction of lego monuments to his splendor. He is under the delusion that he will be able to drive after his fifth birthday. We got him a library card of his own, a milestone!

Yesterday we went to order his birthday cake at the local supermarket. The other local supermarket. Supermarket "S" (am I being coy enough?) has a bakery full of jolly people who hand out cookies to the kids everytime we walk by. The head baker offered me a job there once when the bakery I worked for when out of business. Yesterday, though, I was shopping in Supermarket "A" and decided I didn't want to make an extra stop so we went to order at thier bakery.

We stopped and the Verbalist began to browse through the big book of cake options. Hard choices had to be made: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Spiderman? Spiderman fighting Doc Oct or Motorcycles? Earthmoving equiptment or a tank which transforms into Robot? It was the cammo frosting which sealed the deal.

"This one!" he said stabbing his finger at the tank.

"Are you ready?" asked a raspy voice. I turned and looked at the most apathetic looking individual I had seen in a while, a tired looking woman of indeterminate years. I scanned for the cigarette I knew should be hanging from her lip, finding none. I swear I saw the indent.

'Yes," I replied. "He wants this tank." The woman gazed at the page with a profoundly weary air.

"Hey!" she called to the chipper young lady frosting a cake behind the counter. "Do we have the ..." here she rattled off the order code for the tank," ...cake topper?"

"The robot tank?" chirped the Young Lady. "Sure it's part of larger package 7YE8234L98."

"Can you do Cammo frosting?" asked Rasper.

"Sure!"

"Ok Kid," Rasper addresses my bouncing son, "what kind of cake do you want?"

"Chocolate!"

"Filling?"

"Chocolate! and I want chocolate frosting too!"

"You gotta have white frosting."

"Cammo! Cammo frosting!" I quickly interjected my eyes holding the Verbalist's until the dictatorial light faded.

"And the tank turns into a Robot!"