Okay, now I'm panicking. We must go to this dinner and literally NO ONE can babysit! I’ll pay her double?

I

t’s a perfect day.

It’s also my birthday. I contemplate these things as I stand in front of the new cinnamon bun bakeshop at the corner of the shopping strip. Some people might say that a bakery dedicated just to cinnamon buns is excessive and niche. To those people, I say, you’re missing out.

It’s my birthday. That’s the justification for the calories. But I also happen to be alone. Is it nerdy to sit by myself with a latte and a giant bun? And since I am now 38, do I care about being nerdy? These are the questions.

My feet, apparently, are not plagued by the same doubts as my mind, because they are skipping toward the line, and next thing I know, I’ve ordered a large bun with cream cheese frosting and a medium decaf latte.

I’m about to take my tray and determinedly not look around to see if I know anyone when someone pokes me in the shoulder.

Oh, no, it’s the nerd police.

Nope, it’s just my little sister, Toby.

“Tobes!” I say, holding out my tray to give her a one-armed hug.

“What brings you here?”

“Cinnamon buns!” she says happily. “Big frosted ones! I was going to take some home, but if you’re here….”

We crack up.