I just had my 34th birthday. I've been on this earth for 34 years. That's a pretty big accomplishment.
I mean ... it is.
So when did it go from "yay! it's my birthday!" to "eh, it's just another day?"
My husband asked what I wanted for my birthday.
I actually said "nothing." Like NOTHING. I guess I was trying to be humble or some shit.
What in the actual hell??
Birthdays as you get older are just not as fun. When did we stop having fun? When did we stop expecting gifts? When did stop having parties and celebrating ourselves?
When we got old.
I mean, I understand that we have bills. We have adult things we need to be doing rather than partying it up. But what the hell.
Remember turning three? You told everyone in the store it was your birthday, all the strangers. You told everyone at school. You told the mail main. You told EVERYONE it was your birthday.
Shit - my toddler has been planning his 5th birthday for months ... he still has 2 more months to go. And yet, we know what we are doing for his birthday. All of his friends have been talking about who's party is next and what the theme and cake will be.
The day you were born is special. The day I was born is special. So why downplay it?
I want my mother fucking cake and blow the candles out. ALL 34 OF THEM. When I'm 89 years old ... I want to start a flipping fire with the candles on my cake. I want to jump in a bouncy house and I want to slide down the slip and slide. I want to drink alcohol like I did when I turned
I want to open presents DAMMIT.
It's the day I celebrate my life.
It's the best fucking day ever.
No comments:
Post a Comment