You were the happiest child! Not sure what mom was trying to do with the cake but you appear delighted with the effort. It also seems odd that there is a hairbrush on the high chair tray. Though your hair is exceptionally neat. There would be fifty-one candles on your cake today, dear little brother, and I have no doubt you would be windy enough to quickly dispatch their feeble little flames. If there is any justice or fairness at all there is cake where you are now. And beer. Something in me still wants to reach for the phone and call you. You live on in so many hearts.
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