I love my birthday, I always have. No, my parents didn’t throw great birthday parties for me, elaborate or otherwise. When I was growing up, there were several years when one or both of my parents were in school so there wasn’t always a lot of money around. And, it wasn’t that I got some fabulous birthday presents or anyone made some huge fuss over me more than singing Happy Birthday over a cake. In fact, I really don’t remember any birthday in particular while I lived at home. I’m sure there were some small celebrations but never a big fuss. It just wasn’t what my parents were about. Don’t get me wrong, they were pretty terrific parents, just not ones who made a big deal about birthdays.
Having said ALL of that – I repeat – I love my birthday! In fact, some years I have been accused of having a birthday month. Not that there was a month of parties, but I have been known to make it an excuse for a special get-together at a restaurant for several different nights during my birthday month. My poor friends – they are just used to it by now and it’s a bit of a standing joke. Oh, well.
Some of my friends don’t like to celebrate their birthdays. They’re fine celebrating mine but they say they don’t want to be reminded that they are a year older. My answer to them is always the same – THE ALTERNATIVE IS NOT A GOOD ONE. For some reason they tend to reconsider their position.