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Paul Riddell's avatar

My sympathies about your birthday. When I moved to Texas 45 years ago, mine fell on the first day of school three years running. Not only did I get to spend my birthday in a horribly undercooled high school in 105-degree heat, signing for textbooks and being told “I’d come to your birthday party, but we’re going out of town for Labor Day,” but then I really dreaded going home. My mother’s birthday was Christmas Eve, so I had it (literally) pounded into my head from the age of five that “Merry Christmas/Happy Birthday” joint presents were the height of unacceptability, but for my birthday? “Happy birthday, and why aren’t you grateful for 3-ring binders and a pad of paper, you brat?” (My senior year in high school, the calendar finally adjusted seeing as how my birthday fell on a Saturday, so not only was I the only 16-year-old in my senior class for three days, but I got to spend the actual day bussing tables at a Furr’s Cafeteria for my first high school job. Oh, and I discovered that my present was the class ring my father pushed me into buying. Any wonder as to why I turned out the way I did?)

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Yolanda D.'s avatar

You're hilarious! Even though I'm not Jewish, Happy Rosh Hashanah! 👏👏

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