Lemme say something about birthdays. I have a pretty rocky relationship with mine, but since I'm turning 20 (finally!) I feel like I should give it the benefit of the doubt this year. Why the hate you ask? I'll explain.
Exhibit #1: As a child my birthday dinner my mom would have was almost better than the gifts. Whatever I wanted, no questions asked, was what I got. Ice cream cake? Sure! Pork roast and baby carrots? Of course! Brussels sprouts? Don't even think about it. It was the single greatest feast of the year. As everyone would come over we'd prepare for dinner and I would watch as my mom would bring out the DQ cake that usually had some kind of cat on it. This was the the big bang at the end of the event and my heart would yearn as I guessed how many boyfriends I would have after blowing out the candles. I secretly always hoped for more rather than less, even if I was only 7 at the time.
After we all gorged ourselves, everyone started singing the birthday song and my mom placed the masterpiece made by qualified professionals (haha) in front of me. I learned over, taking the deepest breath I could but also kind of hoping that it wasn't enough to blow out all the candles, when out of nowhere I was frantically pulled away from the cake to have my head smacked over and over. At first I smelled it, the same smell as when I tried to curl my Barbie's hair with a real curling iron. Then I saw it; I had lit my hair on fire.
This continued to happen for 2 more years after that. Needless to say it put fear in my heart every year that my bangs would some how come out of their headband or my pony tail would fall forward and this time no one would be there in time to save my head of blonde hair.
Exhibit #2: Birthday parties. I hated them/ loved them. There was one I will never forget that has left me scarred to this day. My mother had planned a relay race like none other. There was water, there were balloons, basically every fun thing a child enjoys was incorporated in. I had watched her all day with my sisters get it ready and I was eager to start. I ran inside while everyone lined up to grab my shoes and came out. Naturally, since it was my birthday, I walked to the front of the line. This was my party, and it would go how I wanted it! I can't remember which one of my girlfriends it was, but she whined that I had budged (what a party pooper!) and pushed me to the back of the line. I went to the authority figure, my mom, and ordered her to make the girl let me be in the front. My mom shook her head and uttered the words, "Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean you get to be rude." Talk about a dagger to the heart. My eyes welled up and I ran into the house hysterical, barely believing my mother had taken someone's side other than my own. The nerve! I flung myself on the bed, sobbed as loudly as I could, and demanded angrily to the heavens that I be given a replacement parent (I was really melodramatic ok?). I continued like this for quite sometime...
Suddenly though, I sat up and realized I had fallen asleep. I frantically looked at the clock to see for how long. It was late, and the house was silent. I looked in the backyard; it was empty. I had missed my own party. Why hadn't anyone come to wake me?! This couldn't be true. I jumped up and ran to the living room. There I beheld a horrible sight. Not only were there plates with remains of ice cream cake on them... But there were bits of paper everywhere. Those little jerks not only had my party without me, they had opened my presents too (WHO DOES THAT)! The ultimate betrayal. Needless to say I haven't been able to relax at a birthday party since, I always make sure I'm well rested before, and I watch my presents like a hawk.
This year though, it's going to be different. I'm putting that behind me along with the teen numbers! If any of you are wondering how to make this year extra special and help me get over my issues here are 3 things I would really like:
Is that too much to ask? I don't think so.
Oh, and P.S. Please excuse the drama. I feel very passionate today.