"I'm really not, J." "I don't blame you," He says to her. "This is your day, but SOMEONE had to selfishly steal the spotlight." He looks at her with...pity and then goes to her and takes her hand. "And you spent so long on that birthday cake. Can you tell me how you made it?" "Well," she begins, tentatively, "of course it is entirely made by hand." J takes her hands and rubs them. "I have a new use for those hands, Delilah." They both look at me. Still holding her hands, he tells me, "Go get. It was my HUGE first place trophy. The damned thing was big enough to mount in the front yard with a fountain around it. Eagles could land on it when they wanted a drink. I'm exaggerating somewhat, but it was a LOT bigger than the little medal or few-inch high trophy I'd expected.I said, "Good grief. Where are we going to store that? If we put it in the garage we won't be able to get both cars in anymore. Oh, sorry. Hi Cindy. I didn't mean to be rude, but I wasn't expecting a slightly scaled. More

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