Be careful what you wish for..
Yesterday was the big day for my Hubby. It was really cold outside and I made fun of him that no garden party is like ever possible at this time of year. Just to finish him off with a “enjoy, sucker”.
That’s when it hit me.
Cause is it really that much better having ones b-day in the middle of summer? No, not really.
For sure the weather is inviting and one can have a garden party. But is it really a party if no one shows up? Not because they don’t appreciate my existence but because the big day is in the middle of summer.
Who has the time? Most of the time absolutely no one.
When I was a kid my class mates celebrated my birthday ONCE, in August, or early September, after we all were back to school.
What a freakin’ child hood trauma. Not the absence of the b-day celebrations with my friends, but the one and only one time they did celebrate me.
I remember vividly how my best childhood friend showed me down in to the stroller of her baby sister, and of she and the close gang went.
Like an early taste of an humiliating bachelorette party being pushed in a baby stroller through the suburbs.
If only I had a black hole I would have vanished straight into it and never come back out.
But then again, the thought behind it was indeed endearing, even though it’s taken some decades to come to this conclusion.
Yesterday I made the staff at the restaurant humiliate my hubby by asking them to put some sparkles into his dessert and sing Happy Birthday.