I never quite understood birthdays. I mean when I officially came to be on this earth years ago, I really didn’t do any of the work. In fact if I remember correctly, I didn’t want to come outside the womb at all. I was perfectly happy relaxing inside where it was nice, warm, and the food was free. But I guess like many things, there was a time limit to the easy life, so I was yanked out kicking and screaming; to this day this is how I wake up in the morning.
So my birthday is coming sometime this week. I will be getting presents by the dozens (considering fractions of a dozen is still in the dozen family) and all sorts of free things like donuts, ice cream, and coffee to celebrate my coming into being. However I really don’t want any of these things. True, when I was younger I loved having a birthday, you got all sorts of things you could never get on your own because, well, you were a dumb kid who didn’t have a job or money. But now, I can just buy what I want, and if I can’t get it, it is too expensive to be a birthday gift.
Sure, there are other milestones that are exciting to achieve: at 2 you are able to walk and talk, at 13 you are allowed to see Gremlins, at 16 you are allowed to drive poorly, at 18 you are allowed to get shot for international economical interest, at 21 you are allowed watch a game in a bar, and at 25 you are allowed to rent a car. After that, it is all downhill. I don’t need constant reminders that I have aged another year with cards and gifts. I already know and it sort of sucks.
In reality, I feel I don’t deserve attention on my birthday. Or anyone does for that matter. It is the mother who does all the work in child birth. So shouldn’t we shower the mother with gifts and attention instead of the child who probably did everything in their power to make the child-bearing experience all the worse?
So to be true to my feelings on this matter, I will be taking the day off from work, treat myself to a burrito, watch the new Star Wars movie, go to the zoo, have a burger and milkshake for dinner. I am sure this is exactly what my mom would want me to do.