Autumn brings back to school, football Sundays, back to soccer, and weeks-ahead defined by routine.

Autumn also brings a tumult of celebration: anniversary, birthday, birthday, birthday, all before Remembrance day.  We generally come up for air mid-November, just in time to rest before the December holiday onslaught.

Which brings me back to birthdays: name the definitive, penultimate image of the birthday celebration?

That’s right, folks.  Cake.

Birthday cake.  Thewheat-filled final act, the time-honoured tradition of wishes and candles and how-many-boy/girlfriends?

It’s the first family celebration, gluten-free.

It’s A’s first GF birthday post-diagnosis, and in my over-compensating way, I want to make it perfect. Or near-perfect. Or at least not like he’s stuck missing cake.

It’s important to be normal: to honour the traditions and rituals. We are finally feeling our feet back under us, and it feels good.

Which brings me back to cake.

Our household is pretty obsessive about angel food cake, which I have perfected thanks to Duncan Hines. Now think GF. No more boxed cheats, no more convenience.

Ten egg whites and two hours later, my first shot at an angel food cake (ever), let alone GF.

Cue the self-high-five.

And let them eat cake.