In the early light of a summer morning, my 2-year-old daughter toddles down the stairs with her bunny and favorite book in hand. She climbs sleepily into my lap with her matted hair and koala print pajamas, and while the birds and squirrels come to life outside our window, we read “Blueberries for Sal.” “Kerplunk, kerplunk,” my daughter says as she flips through the pages, following Sal as she drops blueberries into her empty bucket only to eat them a minute later. Only the day before, my daughters and I had gone blueberry picking ourselves. Their pails looked remarkably similar to Sal’s: nearly empty, but stained blue with the remnants of eaten berries. Our harvest—well, mostly mine—sat on our kitchen counter, washed and ready for the morning’s activity: cake baking. For our family, summer is the busiest time of year for birthdays. In July and August, there are six amongst …