When's it gonna'  be MY birthday?

When’s it gonna’ be MY birthday?

Perhaps I have been overdoing it a bit lately.  But it’s hard not to be crazy excited when you have my life.  As I’ve tried to point out to my daughter, having the same birthday as Daddy is statistically improbable.  She’ll probably never meet another person in her life who shares a birthday with a parent (disregard our friend in Virginia who just had a baby on her own birthday).  Add to that the fact that my twin sister and our nephew all share the day and it’s insane!  All week long I’ve been asking her the question.  “Sweetheart?  What happens in five (or four or three, etc.) days?”  She looks up at me and says rather sheepishly: “My birthday and your birthday!”

This afternoon I came home from work, picked up my baby girl and said “What’s tomorrow?!”  My son has not exactly been feeling the love.  It’s funny because he really does enjoy birthdays, no matter who’s they are and he loves his sister and his Daddy.  But he’s been chiming in with his “My birthday too?”  No, son, that’s in April like Mommy’s.  I’m happy to let him join in our celebration.  After all, he is my only son, my firstborn.  But his response to the “what’s tomorrow” question was mildly amusing.  He glanced up from his Chick-fil-a cows comic book and said “Friday, Friday, gotta’ get down on Friday.”  He is correct about the day of the week.  But I looked back and said “No, son.  I mean, it is Friday tomorrow but it’s something more important.  Rita, what’s tomorrow?”  She looked at me and said her usual “my birthday and your birthday.”

This time my son didn’t even look up.  He simply said (almost under his breath): “What, again?”  Yes, sonny, again…


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