At that assurance from the matriarch, one of Karen’s aunts got a bib out of a nearby drawer, “We actually didn’t give him any yet – we were afraid he’d get it everywhere.”

“Erm… Well, sounds about right…” As she set her cooing brother in his highchair (and admittedly feeling a twinge of annoyance that he couldn’t cuddle her anymore from there), Karen replied, “But y’know… he can’t help it.”

Another surprising thing to hear her daughter say, but the woman certainly didn’t argue it. Instead, she asked, “Just try and keep things clean, okay?”

“As clean as can be, though a little mess could be fun for him at least.”

Karen was all set to get to work then, until her mother commented on something she hadn’t quite noticed yet herself, “Still, wouldn’t want anything getting on that nice dress.”

“I… what?”

The girl glanced down at herself, baffled. Her shorts and T-Shirt had vanished, replaced instead with the slightly-frilly dress she’d worn in her dream. Almost baffled, Karen felt the cloth, as if checking if it were real.

“Is certainly festive,” remarked Karen’s grandma. “Before it didn’t look like you cared for the day very much.”

“Uh… Yeah.” Now confused but trying not to let it drag her down, Karen awkwardly replied, “Don’t worry, I think this birthday will be very memorable for me.”