Buttercream exploded across the linen tablecloth.
A fondant baseball glove struck a little girl in the cheek.
The candles drowned under frosting.
Sam did not cry.
He simply stared at the crushed cake with his mouth still open, holding the breath he never got to release.
Brody threw both arms up and shouted, « Mom said you’d laugh!
Then I get my new iPhone! »
The room went silent.
Twenty-two children.
Fourteen parents.