Big pink sentimental card. Despite a tough exterior, my Mom is prone to sentiment.
And so, since I hadn't had my coffee yet, I assumed it was my birthday.
I thought it was my birthday for about six blocks.
Then I realized I was going to work and not to Steven's Pass so it was not my birthday, it was plain old February 1st.
I, also prone to sentimentality, remembered this was the not the first time that I have mistook Feb. 1st for my actual birthday.
When I was five (almost) my Mom informed me that she had arranged for my birthday to be annouced on the radio! It was a local show where the ?DJ? read classified ads for people selling trucks and livestock. Then he would annouce birthdays and anniversaries.
So when I got up on Feb. 1st (I didn't drink coffee at all then!) I ran to the radio and waited.
Dana, it's not your birthday. That's tomorrow.
NO! It's today!
No. It's tomorrow. Today is Feb. 1st.
NO!NO!NO!NO! [tears, wailing, flopping on the floor, then off to kindergarten]
Why was I sooooo excited for some guy on the radio to let a bunch of redneck farmers know it was my birthday?
Why was I so devastated that I'd have to wait another 24 excrutiating hours until my real birthday (until I was a year older)?
Because I was five (almost) and that's a good age to be. Probably better than 36 (almost) in alot of ways. Most ways.
But being 36 (almost) is probably better than being say.... 4o, 43, 45....etc.... (I just picked those randomly!)
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