This is how old I feel today (that's me in about grade 4); an emjayandthem photo
and it is! It’s my birthday today! Whee!
And, at 48, I still love birthdays. Mine & everyone else’s!
I know, I know. It seems childish but .. isn’t that the best part?
Last night, our youngest boy asked, “So Mom, when you’re older, do you still get excited about birthdays?” And I thought for a second, laughed and replied, “Of course!” He countered with “Yeah that phone’s gonna ring all night long!”
And is that a bad thing?
I think not.
We went on to speculate how sad it would be to be all alone, to have no one who remembered, or cared enough to say so. The look on his face told me he couldn’t agree more.
Growing up, birthdays were a time to gather the family, have a wienie roast, a handful of chips, maybe a pop, and a big slab of home-made cake with iced cream on top. Having a summer birthday meant a party near the end of school (we didn’t finish up until around now at my Canadian school). It meant longer days and nice weather and Grandma and Grandpa visiting, he in a buttoned down shirt and she in a pretty pantsuit and jewelry. It meant Aunts and Uncles, cousins and friends and a $5 spot in a card. It meant three legged races, running through the sprinkler and opening presents wrapped in tissue paper.
You say it’s your birthday … and it is. 🙂
