I Don't Care About Your Birthday!Stefanie Wilder Taylor
That’s right. If you aren’t a child, I don’t care about your birthday. Recently a friend of mine got bummed out because I forgot to call her on her special day. The truth is that I didn’t exactly forget to call; the truth is that her birthday was barely on my radar at all. I say barely because I did vaguely recall her mentioning it was coming up a month or so beforehand and then a few weeks prior to it and possibly even the day before. Perhaps it was an attempt to make sure that the date was placed in fact squarely on my radar. But it didn’t work. And I didn’t call, and she got offended.
I wonder sometimes if I’m some kind of birthday Scrooge, seeing as I fail to get worked up over any adult’s birthday.
When I was working at my last job in an office, it seemed like at least once or twice a week we gathered in the conference room to celebrate someone’s birthday. “Here, can you sign this card?” “Do you want to pitch in five dollars because we’re getting cupcakes from Sprinkles for Jennifer’s birthday?” No I don’t want to pitch in five dollars. Can’t these people just celebrate with their families? Why do we have to bring other grown-ups into this? At this same job on my birthday which I’d forgotten about I was driving home when I got a call from my co-producer.
“I’m so so sorry that I didn’t realize it was your birthday today!” he said, sounding absolutely distraught. “I saw it on Facebook just now and I feel like such an asshole for not planning something for you.”
Even after I assured him that I don’t care about my birthday, he was still apologizing. I felt like I had to apologize for not alerting everyone! I actually blame Facebook for this. Facebook is obsessed with people’s birthdays. Every day I get notified up in the right hand corner of my screen about all the acquaintances and folks I haven’t seen or heard from in 10 years who are having a birthday. Calm down, Facebook!
It’s out of control. A friend of mine told me that she got ambushed at her spin class to chip in for a gift for the instructor. She told the girl “I don’t have any money on me because I’m in a spin class!” The girl actually offered to front her the cake money until the next class. I’m sorry, but that’s insane. I don’t think we should have to celebrate, much less acknowledge, the birthdays of random people we only see in bike shorts.
It’s not like I’m trying to eradicate birthdays from the planet. I’m not the Hitler of birthdays. I just want to put a limit on how long you can keep expecting people to make a big deal about your birthday. There needs to be a cut-off age, and I’m thinking it’s 21. I love to make a huge deal about my kids’ birthdays because they’re kids and I had them! And they absolutely deserve a special day with princesses and face paint and piñatas, even Chuck E. Cheese! Whatever their sweet little hearts desire! But once they’re 21, done baby!
Just a friendly suggestion.
But if you really insist on celebrating my birthday, it’s July 5th. Happy?
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