Someday

Someday I will want a picture of my boy on his 18th birthday, opening a gift:

 

His gifts were all history books or gift cards to likely be spent on gas and fast food.  Two exceptions were the box of mint truffles from the BYU bookstore from Clarissa (mints are Braeden's favorite) and a Bionicle from Mark.  (Mark excels at giving himself gifts in the guise of giving them to his siblings...)

Someday I (may) want a picture of yet another ugly birthday cake I made.  (It seems like I'd get better at birthday cakes.  I don't.)  Braeden wanted a replica of the "frog" cake I made for his second birthday.  He's sentimental about that cake for some reason:

Someday I will want a picture of Braeden sitting with his lit candles while we sing Happy Birthday to him:

Someday I will want to remember the birthday poem (complete with illustrations) Emma wrote for Braeden. 

one little buffalo, walking through the grass.

two mean cows said, "You shall not pass!"

three little stars came to the buffalo's relief.

four hippopotamuses said, "Good grief!"

five flying monkeys passed through the sky.

six derpy kids shouted out "Oh my!"

seven fat pandas led the charge.

eight scary monsters showed up in a barge.

nine armadillos helped the panda bears escape.

ten assorted Frenchmen said, "Hey!  Have a crepe!"

eleven living toothpicks drove by on a sketchy bus.

twelve eco friendly clouds made quite a fuss.

thirteen boring rocks sang a song called "Fry."

fourteen unimpressed garden worms murmured, "Why?"

fifteen rebel leaves flew off the tree.

sixteen judgmental ducks said, "Mercy me!"

seventeen muskrats yelled, "Broz, stop hatin'!"

and an eighteen angel choir sang, "Happy Birthday Braeden!"

Someday I'll have this blog post to remind me.