Yesterday we found a birthday cake so full of candles that it looked like a sweet neon porcupine or a pin cushion. There was no way to safely light them all. So we bought donuts instead. 
And ate only the choice ones.
Today we are having breakfast at the airport with the old pilots who groan, complain about climbing into airplanes with their increasing inflexibility, smoke, and eat corned beef hash. I'm there.
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