Six years of breakfast management and they still haven’t learned to anticipate the schedule.

The confetti arrived before I did this morning — small paper circles scattered across the hardwood like particularly festive crumbs. Someone has been busy. The party hat sits on the kitchen counter, a cone of cheerful optimism that suggests a fundamental misunderstanding of basset ear architecture. I have noted its position and filed the information accordingly.

Gus discovered the cake box first, naturally. His approach to reconnaissance remains admirably direct — nose to counter, tail at half-mast, the picture of casual investigation. The box smells of vanilla and something that might be peanut butter. I approve of the selection committee’s work.

The morning cookie came with extra ceremony today, as if six years of punctual arrival required additional fanfare. I accepted it with appropriate dignity, though the small bow that accompanied the presentation was noted with some amusement.

Birthday mathematics: one day, two dogs, zero squirrels invited. The guest list reflects sound judgment.

#pawscarwilde #birthdayboy