Happy New Year!!!
My birthday falls on New Years Day and it has got to be the worst birthday ever.
I know I get a Rudolph cartoon character with giant ears to represent me (my ears are fine by the way), but I can’t think of a worse day to be born. In fact when we were thinking about having children I absolutely refused to have one born in December or January.
It starts out bad as a baby…
- Your parents miss a tax write off so right away you start out costing them money.
You get shortchanged as a kid…
- Your birthday falls over school break during the holidays so everyone forgets
- You will forever be hearing “Here’s your Christmas/birthday gift” that is if they remember about your birthday
- Your birthday gift, will always be wrapped in left-over holiday paper or be delivered in gift bags sporting Santa or snowmen.
- You are expected to open your combo Xmas/birthday gifts when you receive them at Christmas so there are no gifts on your actual birthday.
- The timing is terrible, did I mention that it falls one week, seven short days after Christmas? You wait all year for Christmas and then your birthday and then spend 11 months waiting again…how I envied those summer babies with their every six months of gifts!
Now that I am an adult, and I have outgrown a lot of the present hype (although who doesn’t like a present, maybe I am lying a bit) it still hasn’t gotten much better.
- You receive all those lovely Yankee swap gifts that people want to get them out of their house and are so excited to have your birthday arrive to relieve them of them
- You start getting all those holiday bills so you are flat broke, waiting for payday and not really in the mood to spend any more moolah on your birthday
This year my sister had the flu so we exchanged gifts on her doorstep – quickly transferring the bags of presents away from the germs. She said, “The little purple bag is your gift from last year. I haven’t gotten you one this year yet.” I think at that point she should have just pretended…
My Mother however, takes the cake. Literally. She asked what I was doing for my birthday this year and I told her that I really didn’t have any plans so she said she would come visit me and bring a cake. I said that sounded great. She called me that morning while she was baking to ask what kind of frosting I wanted. We settled on a chocolate cake with whipped cream frosting like she used to make when I was younger. She was worried about transporting it in her car so she decided she would pick up the cream at the market by my house and we would finish the cake together.
The husband took the boys off on an outing while my daughter and I waited for my Mother.
Well…she arrived late and breathlessly came in the door with an exclamation of “You will never guess what I did.”
Uh-oh. “What, Mom?” I asked, with a sinking feeling.
“I got to the store and realized that I forgot my purse.” Ok, I can work with that. “Then I went to look for it in the car and I realized I forgot the cake. I must have left if sitting on my kitchen counter.”
Wait, let me repeat that, she forgot her purse and the cake and drove an hour without noticing.
Of course I told her she had to turn around and drive the hour back home and go get it, to which she told me that she didn’t have any gas and needed to borrow cash. I gave her my last $10 plus $ from the kids piggy banks. Then she left to go to her friend’s house for dinner. Thanks, Mom.
The husband arrived home with a cheesecake to smooth things over. I think even he pitied me, which says something.
So that was my birthday. Pretty poignant. Definitely memorable. Can’t wait for next year.