“Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Yousef! Happy birthday to you!”

Yousef leaned forward, closed his eyes, opened them back up for a moment to see our faces, and then blew out the candles with all his lung power. We cheered and he fell back in his chair, more than satisfied with the attention he was getting. It was February 12, 2020, and Yousef, the birthday boy, was turning a whopping ten years old. He’s the baby of the family and his transition into the double-digits was something mind-boggling for all of us. With the exception of Amal, the six of us other siblings could remember life before he was even a thought. We could remember the day he was born, all of his milestones, each of his birthdays, and everything in-between. He was always going to be the baby to us, and while he shoveled down his chocolate cake we reminded him of it again and again. 

After pictures were taken, our dad said his goodbyes and left to go back to work and the mothers (my mother and my step-mother) moved to their routine spot in the living room where they drink their tea and talk for hours a few times a week. My siblings and I all stared at each other in silence for a minute, contemplating on what to spend our time doing before silently agreeing to move to the basement. 

“You know that that new Netflix rom-com came out today,” Jamilah proposed before plopping down on the couch and whipping out her phone. 

“Shut up, Jamilah,” came the expected and ignored injection from either Nadah or Tawfeeg. 

“Which one?” I asked. 

“The one with that Noah dude that everyone makes fun of.”

“Oh let’s put it on,” Hannah said. 

So, we all sat down around the television and turned it on. For the first about twenty minutes, we all sat down like a sweet family and watched, but that facade quickly died and the movie became background noise to the little groups that had formed. Nadah, Amal, and I were sitting in the second kitchen area of the basement talking about whatever and making fun of Hannah and Jamilah, who were in a different corner trying to take pictures of each other with fairy lights they had found. The boys were sprawled along the couch playing video games on their devices, completely unfazed by anything going on around them. 

“Guys, guys,” Nadah snapped. I looked in her direction and immediately heard the click of her camera. Amal shrieked and reached for the phone to delete the monstrosity that Nadah had just taken of the three of us. I immediately started laughing and watched them wrestle for the phone. Amal won and deleted the photo much to Nadah’s dismay, but after a minute of begging, we agreed to let her prop the phone up and take a couple of pictures with her. 

It started off nicely with poses of the three of us hugging and smiling, but once Hannah and Jamilah joined that went out the window. The three seconds before the camera would click was dedicated to seeing who could get in the strangest position. In one, Jamilah’s lying across the countertops, in another Amal’s falling backwards with the four of us supporting her. There were a few with me carrying Amal in strange ways: on my shoulders, upside down, on my back. Nadah and Jamilah fought to stand on chairs and the old countertops. Hannah attempted to strike a somewhat ‘cute’ pose each time, very fitting to her personality. After what seemed like thirty photos, we snapped my favorite one; one where Hannah’s lifting up Amal’s feet and I’m carrying her shoulders, Nadah’s sitting on the counter with her arms flung out, and Jamilah’s striking a standing pose on a wooden chair behind us.  The one that makes me smile every time I look at it; that makes me close my eyes and remember just how grateful I am that I have a family like mine.