Nothing caused me more panic than children’s birthday parties.
And it wasn’t because of the overly sweet cake or the constant screaming. It was the absolute certainty that I would be the only man there alone. The only widowed father, out of place, sitting at a table covered in confetti, surrounded by couples talking about bilingual schools and revolutionary positive-parenting methods.
I hated children’s birthday parties.
— All the dads are going — Giulia said, looking at me with those huge eyes that always won.
— But sweetheart, you'll be with your friends. You won’t even miss me.
She crossed her arms. We were at breakfast and her cereal spoon had been floating in the milk for minutes.
— I want you to go. I want to show you my new dress. Júlia is going with both her parents. Caio too
