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Fourth grade…"Happy birthday to yoooou… You're a hundred and twoooo… You smell like a poooooo… Happy birthday to you!" Sang a rowdy bunch of nine and ten year olds, all of whom were friends of Michael's.
It was his tenth birthday, and he would be turning a whole year older, double digits too. This meant no one could ever call him a little boy ever again, and no one, especially his mum's friends who they often bumped into in the street, could ever pinch his cheeks and squeal, 'Ooh, what a wittle ittle gorgeous munchkin he is!' Ah, this was the life…
He had woken up this morning, with the sun shining, sunlight filtering through the blinds and into room, and his mother leaning against the doorframe of his room, a warm and loving smile on her face. She stood there for quite a while now, admiring her beautiful son as she slept, her heart overwhelmed with her love for him. She beamed proudly as he sat up sleepily, rubbing at his eyes and stretching off the remnants of last night's sleep. She had walked to his side and sat on the edge of his bed, enveloping him in a hug filled with such love that only a mother could give to her child. He had noticed the tears in her eyes, though not realising that they were tears of love for him.
He offered her words of comfort, assuring her that "It's okay Mum… I know I'm a big boy now, but I won't leave home just yet."
She had laughed at his choice of words, and whispered to him a happy tenth birthday, before planting a delicate kiss on his forehead and ruffling his messy bed hair.
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"Happy birthday, Mikey!" He spun around, recognising the sweet sound of her voice.
Sydney jogged towards him, giving him a friendly hug, before handing him a present wrapped in light blue wrapping paper with a silver ribbon tied around it.
"It's for you," she told him, her gaze focused on the ground in a shy manner.
Michael grinned. "Thanks, Syd."
"You're welcome," she smiled in return, as he set the present on the table behind him, amongst the stack of others that he had received earlier from friends and family.
He turned back to her and smiled shyly, before hearing the sound of Eric's voice quickly approaching.
"Syd! Hey!" Came Eric's enthusiastic call. He walked up to them, waving a wooden bat about.
"Hi Eric," they both greeted him.
Eric turned to Michael, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other, and in his best whiny voice, asked "Can we puh-lease get on with the pinata now? I want candy…" He pouted.
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"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Eric bounced ecstatically, waving his arm in the air in an attempt to get attention. "Can I next? Puh-lease?" he whined.
Michael's mother laughed, and gestured to Eric to come forth, so she would be able to place the blindfold on for him. After she had helped him with the blindfold she nudged him gently forward, with his bat in a determined grip. Eric blindly stumbled forward, awkwardly swinging the bat in the area ahead of him. He hit the pinata a few times to his delight, provoking him to swing the bat with more courage, until the pinata was swinging on the rope from side to side, and collided with his head.
"Ow!"
The few kids that weren't chasing one another around the yard giggled, and a pink tinge crept into Eric's chubby cheeks. Embarrassed, he tugged the blindfold covering his eyes and passed it to Sydney, who stood awaiting her turn. After slipping the blindfold on, she took a few steps forward, the bat poised, ready to hit the pinata.
"THWACK!" (A/N: Is thwack a word?) Sydney swung the bat, hitting Michael squarely across the head, sending him stumbling backwards at the force of her hit.
"Oh my god, Mikey, I'm so, so sorry," she hurriedly pulled of the material covering her eyes, before rushing to his side, apologising profoundly.
Almost everyone hastily dashed over to the scene, surrounding the birthday boy, who stood clutching the large bump that had appeared on this forehead. Michael's mother was amongst them, quickly pushing through the crowd of little nine and ten year old children to get to her son. She gathered him in her arms, despite the whiny protests from Michael to quit embarrassing him in front of his friends, and inspected the injury.
"Mum, I'm okay. Really, I'm okay! I'll just get some ice on it, okay? I'll be fine, I won't die on you," he assured her, before she ushered everyone away and led him to the kitchen to get some ice. On his way past Sydney, he smiled softly at her millionth 'I'm so sorry Mikey', trying to convince her that he was fine.
In the kitchen, his mother hands him an ice pack wrapped in a cloth from the fridge, which he holds to his head, as he stares out the glass screen door leading to the backyard. Outside, everyone has resumed their activities without him, and he sees that Eric has managed to get the pinata open by jumping up and tearing it apart with his hands. He laughs to himself as he watches, Sydney giggling at Eric, who is busily scrounging the grass for as much candy as he can get his hands on, the way Sydney's dimples appear on her face as she smiles, the way she kindly declines when Eric offers her some candy from his bulging pocketfuls of sweets.
His attention however, is diverted back to his mum, when she speaks. "Are you sure you're okay, honey?" she asks worriedly.
"I'm fine, mum."
"Is something wrong? You seem awfully quiet…"
"Can I ask you something?" his eyes are avoiding hers, staring at the delicate patterns of their granite bench top instead.
"Mmm?"
"Do wishes really come true?" Michael hesitates in asking her, for fear of sounding childish. "Like when you blow out the candles on your birthday cake. Do they really come true?"
"Sweetie, not all wishes will come true, you know that. It depends on what you wish for. If it's too outrageous, you know that it'll never come true. But I'm sure if you wished for something that was actually possible, chances are it will come true, because you're the birthday boy, remember?"
"Yeah…"
"There's one catch though. You can never tell anyone your wish… Or else it'll never come true."
"Why not, mum?"
She laughs at his inquisitive nature. "I'm not sure… But how about we cut the cake now, and you can make your wish, Michael?"
"Alright!" He grins at his mum, before hoping off the stool to join his friends in the backyard.
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"Happy birthday to yoooou… You're a hundred and twoooo… You smell like a poooooo… Happy birthday to you!"
Michael's mother laughed at the children's rendition of the traditional happy birthday song. "Now Michael, blow out your candles, sweetie. And remember to make a wish!"
I wish that Sydney would like me… Because I like her a lot…
And with that, he blew out the candles for his tenth birthday, and grinned at the applause from his friends.
"So what'd ya wish for, Mike?" Eric, mouth full of candy asked.
"I can't tell you, Eric… Or else it won't come true," he smiled at his mother.
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