They held out the intonations into a barbershop minor key. “Happy Birthday to You.”
The twins were such hams, as were their three mates.
I knew that something was afoot when all of them showed up after supper.
“So Bradley, what’s behind your back?”
“Presents,” was the sheepish response. “Sorry, Uncle Al.” The twinkle in his eyes said anything but sorry. “There were seven.”
“Yeah, Dad.” Now my oldest looks as if he is in the confessional. “We did plan ahead… But it got a little late.”
They opened my one present left.
“At least it has extra cheese.” I laughed.
Written for Friday Fictioneers. Requirements: Create a flash fiction story (100 words) using teh photo prompt provided.