This year, when I blew out the candle on my gourmet chocolate cupcake, I made a wish.
It felt childish to wish for something at all. Selfish, even, to waste my wish on the stuff of fantasy.
When the dissonant notes of the Happy Birthday song resolved, I looked around the room filled with my beloved friends.
The thing I wanted most in the world was to turn everyone present into a kitten I could scoop up by the belly, with furry legs dangling and chin poised for scratching, and place into a basket cradled in the crook of my arm.