Dark room, wand, sound waves bounced through my body.

A computer collected the bits of information and compiled an image of two tiny feet.

In August, God willing, those feet will be smeared with black ink and pressed on a card stock certificate of birth.

I’ve already washed guitar picks. That’s the life of the mom of an 11-year-old rock star.

Ryley got an electric guitar for his birthday.

How do you tune a guitar? There’s an app for that.

Luckily, my husband knows a little about guitars and has been able to work with Ryley, teaching him some basic chords.

There was cake, of course. Ryley requested Sonic the Hedgehog. When I first heard “Sonic” I thought about a cake decorated with chili cheese tots. Mmmm.

My lettering is improving. Proving there is always an issue when I make a cake, I could not get the cake out of the pan. I greased it, but the cake was hopelessly stuck. Sonic looks slightly peeved, but Ryley was happy.

A happy rock star is a rare and beautiful thing.