The Wrong Birthday Cake

For my mom's sixtieth birthday, I ordered a cake from the bakery downtown. When I opened the box at the party, it said "Happy Retirement, Gary!" in blue frosting.

There was a moment of panic. Then my mom read it, threw her head back, and laughed until she had to sit down. "Who's Gary?" she kept asking. "I hope Gary's having a nice day."

We sang to her anyway, substituting "Gary" for her name, at her insistence. My dad made a toast to Gary's long and successful career. My aunt suggested we all retire and join Gary.

The bakery called the next day, mortified, and offered a refund. My mom told them to keep it and wish Gary a happy retirement from all of us. Now every family birthday includes a small toast "to Gary," wherever he is. I hope his cake said something equally strange.