Sixteen Candles

Saturday we were finally able to hold my granddaughter Celine’s birthday party. Her birthday was actually last year just before Christmas, but with scheduling conflicts, it had to be postponed. She is now officially a young lady, having turned sixteen. She’s intelligent and lovely but doesn’t like to be photographed. Her mom, dad, and aunties did get some nice remembrances.

My daughter Anna Prinkey made an abundance of decorations, most were pretty in pink. Sweet was the theme with replicas of candy. “Chocolate covered ping pong ball candies, pink netting swirled around paper cones were imitations of cotton candy, and foil-covered plastic funnels became Hershey kisses with a sign saying kisses 25 cents. Two colors of pink plates and white plated were taped to the walls throughout the downstairs. In the center of the dining room table perched a two-layered, sprinkle covered birthday cake.

I decided to add to the festivities by stopping on the way to my son’s house. Nothing fancy, but bought four Little Caesars Pizzas, two cheese and two pepperoni pizzas. As I unloaded the car, there was a slight mishap. One of the pepperoni pizzas slid onto the driveway. It was swiftly gathered up. My son was there and because it fell onto large pieces of clean shale-gravel, it was soon back inside the box. Andrew said, “Sh-h-h, don’t tell anyone.” No one complained of crunchies or lost a tooth, so I guess it was okay. It did taste good.

Celine’s gifts were varied; a guitar, cooking utensils and cookbooks, and the old money in a birthday card. Grandpas are known for things like that. Celine doesn’t play the guitar yet, but she plays the violin. Like I’ve said, she’s talented, unlike me. For some reason, I can’t translate the notes that I see on a piece of music to my fingers. Over the years, I’ve tried tooting a trumpet, picking out a tune on a piano, and couldn’t claim a clarinet. Somehow I manage not to be tossed and allowed to sing in our church choir.

My father Carl Beck would always embarrass a young lady when she reached the age of sixteen by saying, “Sixteen and never been kissed, but badly slobbered on.” I love my dad and I love my granddaughter, so I won’t carry on the tradition by only saying, “Happy birthday Celine.”