My third Birthday
Over the years, atleast the adult ones, I’ve had quite a bit of drama surrounding my birthday and it’s really just made the day something I dread. Granted I’ve had a sprinkling of good, but they’re so few and far between that they seem almost cancelled out by the bad.
In my family it’s tradition to make a big deal about everyone’s birthday. Well, I don’t know if it’s a big deal, but getting “the horde” (as I’ve dubbed them) together is no easy task. Not to mention the emotional trauma that is sure to ensue from it. We all go out to dinner in a resturant of the birthday person’s choice and we each bring a gift. Doesn’t really sound like a production, but when you factor in that I am the one shopping for my parents and, a lot of the time, David (my oldest brother) it becomes a chore I don’t look forward to.
Anyway, tomorrow is my birthday and like last year I know it’ll be a craptastic day. I really don’t even want a birthday, and no, not because I’m worried that I’m aging, I seriously forget how old I am on occasion. Then there’s the whole being a year away from 30 (after tomorrow) and still looking like I haven’t reached 20. So really, age isn’t something I worry about. It’s the actual day that gets to me. Last year I told my mom I didn’t want to do the dinner thing and she forced me into it. Bob (my step-dad) didn’t go, David (brother)didn’t go, and that just leaves B-renda (the bearded dwarf) & Van (another brother) to go because everyone else lives out of state. So my mom and Brenda and Van went out to eat last year, we went to TGI Fridays because Van & Brenda were already there, and I hated my meal. So I gave in and then got disappointed….again!
Anyway, lets just pretend, since my honey won’t be in town this year either, that it’s not my birthday but I’ve aged a year. Deal? Good, thanks.