Anyone out there who has darn-near hyperventilated blowing out trick candles; who’s had 20 friends startle you in a darkened room; or who’s been attacked by 30 pink flamingos on your front lawn—and hated every second of it—let us commiserate together.
But we do like the cake and presents though.
“Is having a nice, quiet birthday too much to ask?” I inquired of my husband, Fred, earlier this year…pre-birthday.
“But what fun is that for everyone else?” he replied and flashed that I’ve-got-something-in-the-works guilty look.
Each year, when I blow out my birthday candles I wish the same wish—just give me my fattening dessert and don’t involve strangers with fiendish grins. I wish, O granter of birthday wishes, that there was a law against embarrassing birthdays, so that the next time someone slips a waiter a note about my birthday, a police officer would poof in, put them in handcuffs and force THEM sit on a table-side saddle in front of 150 strangers on their 40th.
Yeah! Ride THAT cowboy!
This year a friend offered to take me to lunch at my favorite Mexican restaurant on my birthday. I accepted, but begged her—
“Please don’t tell them it’s my birthday—I SERIOUSLY do not want to wear the sombrero!”
But…faster than you can say, “Where’s the ladies room?” a mariachi band had assembled and the Spanish speaking waiter presented me with a fabulously ornate black sombrero, fiendishly grinning, saying, “Feliz Cumpleanos!” which I hoped meant “Here is a million dollars” or at least “We spray for head lice.”
My “Birthday Embarrassment” is not limited to dinning. In fact, surprise parties should be listed on a bottle of Benadryl as a cause for hives. Fred threw me a surprise party for my 33nd birthday but he now knows if he ever does that again, he should plan to sleep with one eye open and his good ear up…forever.
Children LIVE for their birthdays and they don’t mind people staring at them waiting for their amusing reactions and having total strangers size them up to guess their age. They squeal happily over the fuss and don’t fret about how they’re going to look in all those candid pictures (or who will post them on Facebook). Save the parties, the hats and horns and the singing restaurant employees for the little kids….
…and leave us this old, camera-shy “Birthday Grinch” alone!
I still want cake and presents though.