Birthday mornings in our kitchen always land somewhere between quiet and slightly chaotic. My sis, Addie, is half-awake but still glowing. Papá’s already made coffee and laughed at his own joke. Mamá is taking in the whole scene like it’s a gallery opening. Presents are minimal, coffee is strong, and the only thing louder than the spring breeze is the wrapping paper crinkle. Wouldn’t trade this soft chaos for anything.