I’ve already shared with you the story of my humiliation on Leslie’s birthday. Today is my birthday, so in honor of that here are three more birthday stories.
My birthday is the anniversary of the day I slept with one of my female high school classmates. It was nothing salacious though. I learned in art class one day that this girl was two or three days older than me. In the course of talking about it, we discovered that we were born in the same hospital. So, I figure we must have spent at least one night together in the same hospital nursery.
My sister’s birthday is the day before mine, although she’s four years younger. I remember my parents bringing her from the hospital for the first time, not home to our apartment, but to my maternal grandmother’s house. I stayed with my grandmother while my mother was hospitalized for the blessed event. I also remember sitting on the couch that day in my grandmother’s living room and being allowed to hold my baby sister. I thought it was pretty special. But within a few weeks, I wanted my parents to take her back to where they got her.
I still feel that way.
Many years after my high school junior prom, I met my date again. I told her I’d like to send her a birthday card and a Christmas card and while I remembered when Christmas was, I didn’t remember the date of her birth. No humiliation for me surrounded the day, so I forgot it in the ensuing years. She told me she was born on December 18th, but that she would not tell me what year.
Hello! I’m pretty good with math. If I knew how old you were when I was 16, I still know how old you are. That’s one I can still do in my head.
I’m not going to tell you how old I am, but if we have a cake with the requisite number of candles, the local building code mandates either fire sprinklers or a Halon fire suppression system.
