Why is it that when it comes time for my birthday I turn into the biggest bitch on the planet? It’s not because I’m getting older. In fact, I’m fine with that. It’s the whole “What do you want?” and “What do you want to do?” questions that kill me. There is NEVER a right answer.
“Nothing” as an answer doesn’t seem to work. You seem like a martyr.
Being specific makes you seem like a bitch who wants the whole day to center around you like hold the entire universe’s gravitational pull in the palm of your hand.
Hints only get you what you really don’t want or want to do in the first place.
Birthdays suck and I always seem like the bitch!
Within 34 days I celebrate Christmas, my wedding anniversary, and then my birthday. I love Christmas because I love getting people gifts they really like and then watching them open them. The hunt of the great gift is so much fun and the happiness on their faces bring me complete satisfaction. I’ve learned over the past 14 years that my husband is not the greatest gift giver. He always waits until last minute and then he usually has to ask me what I want about 25 times. I try to make a habit of pointing out things I like in sale ads and such, trying to make it easy on him by giving him choices. I could only make it easier by writing it in the sky but I’m not sure that would help either. I do like to be pleasantly surprised. Sometimes that happens.
I kept saying…ever since before Thanksgiving…that I wanted this mending glue they kept advertising on TV. Mighty Mend. I would go on about how I could fix so many things: sofa pillows, stuffed animals, torn hems… The possibilities would be endless. Christmas came and no Mighty Mend! But, guess what I got for our 12th wedding anniversary? (Actually the day after our 12th anniversary because he didn’t realize that our anniversary was on Sunday and left it at work.) Mighty Mend! Yes, I wanted it but not for our anniversary. Nothing says “I love you” like fabric glue.
See! The bitch in me even shows up on my anniversary! I should be thankful he ordered it and got it but… You got it! I’m a bitch!
Now my birthday is tomorrow. I said what kind of cake I wanted and had to write down the phone number and give it to him or he wouldn’t have ordered it. BITCH! He asked me what I wanted. I’m tired of giving hints. Finally I just said I wanted him to take the kids out and let them pick whatever they wanted to get me within a small reasonable spending amount. That should bring a pleasant surprise. At least purple nightgowns and stuffed animals are cute when picked out by a 7 and 10 year old.
I am formulating my answer for next year already. If I’m going to be a bitch no matter what I do, then at least I’m going to do what I want.
I want to sleep until noon. I don’t want to hear the alarm clock or remind you ten times that you need to get up. I will not be going to work! I don’t want to let the dog out or get the kids ready for school. When I get up at noon I’m going to start drinking. I’m going to to be in my sweatpants with holes in the seams, a tank top and no bra. There will be no makeup and my hair will be pulled back with a scrunchie. At 1:00 I’m going to eat a tube of chocolate chip cookie dough and watch a chick flic that makes me cry. Then I’ll go on the computer and play Pop It for an hour. At 5:00 I’ll get into a long hot shower with the radio blaring. I will put back on my sweats and maybe a t-shirt. When I get out I want dinner served and the kitchen cleaned up from dinner. I want a hot fudge brownie sundae for my birthday cake. I will not do homework, dishes or laundry! I’ll continue to drink and then watch the 6 episodes of heroes on the DVR that I need to catch up on but I don’t because you don’t like the show. I will go to bed at 11 by mysel so I can get to sleep without any snoring in my ear(once I’m asleep you can come to bed).
Happy Birthday to the BITCH!
Tags: birthday gifts, birthdays, birthdays are a bitch, never a right answer, perfect birthday
