Everyone loves tiramisu, and I don't blame them - its pure awesomeness with every bite. The melt in your mouth satisfaction makes you wonder why you weren't spoon-fed this from birth.

So today is Matt's birthday. On Saturday, we celebrated his birthday at Congee Time, where, not so coincidentally because we celebrate every special occasion at every 'Congee' type restaurant, I also celebrated my 20th birthday. Annabelle bought Matt tiramisu for his birthday and we only managed to only devour half the cake there (blasphemy!).

That night, Annabelle, my dad, and I went over to my grandmas place to say hi to my Aunt who's visiting from Vancouver, since she was to leave the next morning. As a token of what I thought was proper gesture, we left the other half of the tiramisu for her. *sobs*

Only problem was that we didn't tell Matt.

This morning, Matt woke up in a good mood, happy that nearly all his friends texted him 'happy birthday!' He bounced out of bed and looked for the cake - only to find it missing. The poor kid. I came home today and found him dejected, demanding where his cake was.

I feel slightly guilty. To make up to him, I promised him that he can eat half my cake on my birthday. *double sob*

Anyway, so Matt is 20 today. When he was a kid, I had slight authority over him and played tricks with his mind. Once, when he turned 16, I told him that my guy friends already had a cascade of armpit hair, so Matt checked his and became alarmed at his lack of armpit hair. Since then, every year on his birthday until he turned 19, he would check and grow increasingly worried. The sad thing was that I didn't even know how much my bad joke impacted him - I mean, I didn't even have any guy friends at 16, let alone know what state their armpit hair was in.

I also realized tonight that Matt is 20, Annabelle is 21, and I'm 22. I don't know what to make of this, all I can think of is what a headache my mom must have had (and probably still do).