I celebrated a birthday a few days ago and it was pretty low-key, cupcakes at a good friend’s house and a hotel stay in Charlotte on our way back from up North. The lady at the hotel asked if I had any big plans for my birthday, I turned to little A and said, “I think hot chocolate is on the agenda.” And indeed it was, as well as a little jumping on the bed-c’mon it’s my birthday!
Almost every time I tell people my birthdate, they get this kind of sad, empathetic look in their eyes and question, “Is it hard to have your birthday that close to Christmas?”
No way, man. It’s awesome as a matter of fact. Here’s the way I’ve started to look at it the last two years and it makes it beautiful in fact: with it being some close to Christmas and the New Year, I look at each birthday as a brand-new start, a way to have totally new start, and it’s makes me that much more excited to celebrate it. Getting older has also made me cement some things I’ve suspected about myself:
1) I hate shopping. If I’m in a store other than the grocery store for more than twenty minutes, there’s a good chance I’ll be hiving up (pretty sure this term is in a medical dictionary somewhere) and experiencing shortness of breath. You will not find me shopping on my birthday on my own volition. Give me the quiet loneliness of a Dollar General isle, the laid-back atmosphere of a Goodwill or the library checkout line–I’m telling you, I’m a cheap date.
2) I prefer being outside to most anything. There are no checkout lines in the great outdoors.