I HATE MY BIRTHDAY

(This was written on my birthday a couple of years ago.  It was never posted.  I thought today would be a good time to do it.)

Today is my birthday.  I’ve always hated my birthday.  I’m telling you this right up front.  Just to get it out of the way.  I don’t mind getting older.  I really don’t.  Okay.  The eye sight and the ear hair are freaking me out, but other than those two God-awful things, I really don’t mind age.  I’ve just always hated a “David Moon Day.”

Maybe it all dates back to my sixth birthday.  Or maybe fifth.  I don’t remember which one.  All I remember is it was the first “Dave Moon Day” I remember.  My parents gave me a goldfish bowl containing two goldfish.  There names were Billy and Willie. They weren’t wrapped as gifts.  They were fish. Live fish.  So I met them early in the day.  

Anyway, many times, I wasn’t a bad kid.  My sister was really into those goldfish.  She seemed to love those little swimmers. I could see in my sisters sweet and beautiful eyes that she wanted me to share with her Billy and Willie.  So, being the not bad kid that I was, I eagerly suggested that one of the scaly guys be hers.  She was so grateful.  I felt good about myself for being such a standup kid, and giving away one of my birthday presents.  I was wonderful.

Then my sister got excited.  She was excited about my birthday.  There were a couple of other presents that were wrapped and sitting on a table near the piano and where the goldfish were.  I started to examine those packages.  I guess with the same excitement any 5 or 6 year old would.  I don’t know if my sister’s excitement came from the gift of Billy or Willie. Maybe it did.  Maybe she just loves to give and was excited about that.  Maybe she just really loved her little brother.  What do I know?  As I was examining the wrapped gifts – the surprises - she couldn’t help herself.  She blurted out, “The bow and arrow set is from me!”

Anyway, many times, I am a jerk.  The giving away of the surprise of the bow and arrow set bothered me so much that I took back Billy or Willy.  I took back the gold fish I had given her just moments before.  I could tell this hurt her.  I didn’t care.  I wanted to hurt her at that moment.  She looked down at the piano keys, sort of just fiddling with the white keys while I went into my tirade over having the surprise ruined.  I was awful.

Talk about regrets.  I guess this is the first of many in my memory.  I was such a jerk.  And my dear sister deserved none of my wrath.  

I know.  We were just kids.  And my sister has nothing whatsoever to do with my hatred of my birthday.  My behavior that day has everything to do with it.

Nevertheless, I am glad to be alive.  It’s more than Billy and Willy can say today.

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