My Husband Texted “Stay Upstairs” Before Our Son’s Birthday—Then an Officer at the Door and a Blue Folder Changed What He Thought He Knew
“A few people may arrive early.”
“How early?”
“Nine.
Maybe a little before.”
The birthday song and cake were planned for half past nine.
Noah had insisted on a morning party because he wanted the rest of the day to play with his presents.
By afternoon, he expected to have built everything and eaten another piece of cake.
“Then I’ll be ready before nine,” I said.