I am Stella, Queen of the Olde English Bulldogges.
Me: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, STELLA! YOU ARE SEVEN YEARS OLD TODAY!
Tiger: Do I have to sing the birthday song? She already gets called ‘the queen’ all the time. That’s like having a birthday every day.
Me: We sang it for you. It would be nice if you joined in with a pleasant, non-grumbly voice.
Tiger: Oh, all right.
Wiggles: What do we get?
Me: Special treat this evening. A small sausage that has been made with cheese. Well-cooked. Not our normal fare.
Miss Sweetie: Oh, me, me, me!
Me: Everyone gets some, Sweetie.
Doodlebug: How old is seven years?
Me: Well, I’ve seen several calculations for that, from 51.5 to 62.1 human years.
Doodlebug: Is that old?
Stella: I can’t believe it. Just like that, I am old.
Me: You don’t act old. I don’t think of you as old. I didn’t know you when you were a puppy.
Stella: I was a puppy?
Me: Sure. Don’t you remember?
Stella: Not much. Was I cute?
Me: You’re cute now so you must have been cute then.
Stella: I’m not sure I like birthdays anymore. Especially when there is no cake.
Me: But then there is…
Stella: SAUSAGE!!! I’m young again! Bring it on!
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