Over the last 24 hours folks wished me “Happy Birthday” and I responded with a polite happy ‘thank you”. It was amazing to hear from so many. Even from reunited 20 years ago high school friends. Then they ask:
“So what’s special today”
“How are the celebrations going along?”
“What gifts did you get?”
“How did the birthday go?”
“So wheres’ the party?”
..and so on.
I reply with a completely baffled expression: “Yea, it’s good. I mean, really, it’s just another day right?”
They “look” at me like I just told them am a mutated specie from Saturn, or worse, that I am a pre-historic dodo. We shall not get into any more details for now.
So since I was just asked again and I repeated myself for the umpteenth time, and got sick of it, I decided I’d just as well post it and save everyone the hassle. Then again, considering how I am right and you are wrong, it shall serve all of you right for asking me! *wicked laugh*
What? Nope, you don’t escape siree!
Woke up, got dressed, woke daughter up, she groans out “happy birthday mommy” and I melt. Then go down pack lunches, yell and scream for the other two to wake up. Sister-in-law from India calls me, and after a few giggles and thankyou’s I hang up as it was already pushing 7 am. Son wonders if school’s on, and clicks the TV on. Groundhog day special! Oh yaa, mom,it’s your birthday, happy birthday! Husband walks up, overhears conversation and hugs me a happy birthday! Yay. Munchkin follows suit.
Get to work. PYT colleague gets me Rafaello coconut chocolates. (I’d originally got hooked to it in Brussels and used to pay 235 BEF for a 15 or so little pack. Yum stuff!) Another friend walks in with the flowers that I proudly displayed in my previous post. She’s a darling and had rounded up a few of us and took us to Uno’s for lunch. Was a good lunch. Relaxing, fun and no stress. Just like old times. Come back and the inbox has my really adorable PYT manager send me a ‘happy birthday’ in the largest letters that Outlook can handle. O yay!
Facebook, twitter, orkut, inbox keep bringing in more ‘you have new mail’ icons. I reply diligently, with a smile.
Through all of that there’s a background itchy bug droning on in my head. Couldn’t get rid of it. Enough work piled. Tried working more. Stayed late.
Got on chat with a new “girlfriend-shrink” and of course felt a bit better.
Came home, munchkin wanted a cake, so husband got one. She insisted I stick in 37 candles, and then was gently asked to count the number in the pack. She said 12 triumphantly. So I told her we’d just stick 3, one for each decade. Complete be-sur happy birthday songs ensued. Like a trooper I cut, forked and fed everyone. Got fed too. Well, it was black forest, who’d resist that. Had take out desi dinner.
While husband cleaned up and loaded the dishwasher, I got back to writing an article I accepted to do. Old lost friend decides to show up and be nice to the birthday girl.
Felt good. Smiled. Laughed. (yea, I did laugh)
Finished the article. Went to bed exhausted.
End of the day.
Oh right, the day before, Sunday at dance class, the whole 50 or so kids of all ages sang for me, while I shriveled and shut my face in embarrassment. Never tell anyone below the age of 8 it is your birthday. They will hound you to death till you give them a number. I chose 21. They stared at me for a huge long moment, while I continued to smugly smile. I won.
The daughter shouts from the back “Mom, I am 13 here!”
I say: “yeah, so?”
She: “I give up!”
End of my story. Now you tell me.
What do you do on your birthday anyway?! No really, tell me. Singles and love birds, please may I request you to shut up. Okay, on second thoughts, be gentle and try not to rub it in? :(