Wednesday, September 16, 2009

I Believe I've Created Two Monsters

To know me is to know that I am ALL about my birthday. My birthday season (which usually lasts approximately two weeks - or a month, depending on my mood that year) is my favorite time of the year. I expect those who love me to wish me a Happy Birthday Eve, Eve, Eve...then Happy Birthday Eve, Eve....then Happy Birthday Eve...then, of course HAPPY BIRTHDAY! During this season, they are to shower me with gifts, be at my beck and call and allow me to get away with murder if need be. My peeps absolutely LOVE it!

My daughters, however, are beginning to overshadow my favorite season with their own birthday celebrations. WTF? Who do these little heifers think they are?? No one's birthday is more special than mine!

Take lil J for example. She's only three years old and she's already in love with her own birthday...she sings "happy birthday" to herself at least once a week...all...year...long. I'm pretty sure it was the second song she learned to sing (after Twinkle Twinkle Little Star). And if I come home from shopping, she asks, "what did you buy me??" and although I remind her that it's not her damn birthday, she doesn't care. She thinks every day is her birthday and that any time I go to the store, I should come home with a gift for her. And, she asks me to make her a vanilla cake with strawberries in it randomly, months after her birthday!

Then there's J. She's 13 and she's a little more sneaky about stretching her birthday out by weeks. The weekend before her birthday, we had to go to a family dinner thing. The weekend after her birthday, we had to endure a slumber party (10 screaming, giggly girls). That's two cakes, people. TWO. And she's nowhere near MY age! But that isn't the end of it...two weeks after her birthday, I get to drag her and 3 of her closest, dearest friends (that she happens to not be hating at the moment) on a trip to the Kemah Boardwalk. I draw the line after that. This shit is getting totally out of hand.

I'm beginning to think I might be a bad influence on my children.

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