It’s weird. My birthday, I mean. I wrote a post about it yesterday, and I want to continue musing today. My mother called me yesterday on my actual birthday and said, “I wanted to call you and wish you a happy birthday even though it’s not yet your birthday.” I laughed and said that it was actually my brithday, and she was mortified. She explained that she had the flu and was so tired and stressed, and I hastened to assure her that I was fine with it. I don’t care about my birthday, and to be frank, she cared about it much more than I did. One year, she got upset because I was dismissive about it, and then I had to comfort her so she would calm down.
I just thought it was funny that of all the people to get my birthday wrong, it would be my mother. I didn’t care, though, and I made sure to let her know it was fine. She had been sleeping all the day before because of the flu. Well, maybe the flu and maybe COVID. She refused to take the COVID test because–I’m not sure why. She did not want to know because—again, I don’t know. At any rate, she’s not feeling good. But of course she had to call me because it was my birthday. She would not dream of not calling me for my birthday, no matter how many times I told her it was not necessary.
Then I talked to my father, and he was not able to keep it together. He seemed to understand that it wsa my birthday, but he drifted off after asking what I was doing for it. My brother mentioned that the last time he talked to my father, he (my brother) could not track what my father was saying. My brother said my father kept talking about some program or agenda or something like that.
It was the same with my birthday. He kept asking what the program was. In part, it was him asking what I was going to do with my friends. When I said nothing (in part because it was ten at night, but mostly because I don’t celebrate my birthday), he scolded me for not wanting to do anything for it.
I said I’d have a cupcake and ice cream, and he laughed scornfully. Apparently, that wasn’t good enough. Honestly, I don’t understand why other people get upset about me not celebrating my birthday.
I don’t get it in general. Why other people cared how I celebrated holidays. As long as you get to enjoy your holidays, why should you care what I do with hime?