18 September 1977—Rick’s Twelfth

Looks like the same red paper Valerie wrapped Chris’s presents in, four months ago.

Now that Rick was twelve, I had the privilege of ordaining him a deacon in the Church; his new dignity called for the handsome three-piece suit, in front of the raspberries. He looks younger in his Scout uniform, but I do count twelve candles on that cake, too. Unless I’m reading it wrong, Valerie baked a separate cake for his “friends party.”