I’m away on a work trip and was too lazy to write this one out by hand, but I did participate by typing.
I’ve liked birthdays. My mother put large amounts of time into making cakes for me as a child. My sisters and I benefited much from this sugar creations designed to satisfy our childish desires rbrbrbrb but that’s changed since I’ve gotten older. Birthdays aren’t nearly the fun that they used to be. I thin k that’s the way of life and how things will be from now on. My kids like birthdays, and it’s fun to anticipate their joy. hrbhrbhrbhbrhbrhbrhbr I don’t ever want to not enjoy a birthday or be afraid of my age or the like just because of how old I am. I’m 31 now and will be ok to be 40 and 50 I hope. We’ll see. hrbhrbhrbhrbhrbhrbhrb I’ve found, through a few mistakes, that birthdays are a big deal to my wife. I’m not going to forget that one.
In a way, birthdays are a little strange…in essence we’re congratulating someone from emerging from a womb. I supposed it’s a good thing to remember and enjoy, but still, it’s nearly like saying “Hooray! You’ve survived a year since we last had cake in your honor!” but then again, who ever turns down the joy or excitement of cake. Not me.