I was talking to my mom about this earlier, and she agreed with me (though I’m not surprised): birthdays really shouldn’t be celebrated by the person who was born that day.
When you think about it, however-many-years-ago today I just slipped into the world. My mom was the one doing all the work, being brave, ignoring the fear and pain to get me where I am. So why are we celebrating me?
I understand the concept of having a day for your family and friends to appreciate you as a person. But the word “birth day” seems unnecessary. Oh, wow, congrats on being born. You don’t even remember it. Let’s eat cake.
I don’t hate birthdays or anything, it just seems that they should be renamed, and “birthday” reserved for the moms that actually did work that day.
Of course, I had cheesecake for breakfast (and as an after-school snack), so I’m not complaining.
Happy belated birthday, Mercy! Happy slightly-early birthday, JesterMangoz! Happy somewhat-early birthday to Anna!
If you leave your birthday in the comments, I’ll make a note of it for future reference.
And I’ll send your mom a card.