Lisbeth’s family takes birthdays pretty seriously. My family does not. And so, Lisbeth’s first birthday with me was disappointing. I didn’t forget — I had gifts and plans in place. But to Lisbeth it’s important that the first thing out of my mouth is “Happy Birthday!” This is first thing in the morning — the instant I wake up. But the first thing out of my mouth that first morning was not “Happy Birthday!” It was something more like “I need to pee.”
My wife is a practical woman, and she’d rather be married to a man that treats her well all year and then forgets her birthday than a man that delivers magical birthdays but neglects her for the rest of the year. Nevertheless, it seems that she was a bit traumatized by that birthday because ever since then she very carefully reminds me that she has a birthday coming up, and what her minimal expectations are for that birthday.
This works fine for me. I don’t mind being reminded, even when I am aware that her birthday is coming up. This way she is assured she won’t be horribly disappointed, and I have a few warnings in advance.
And so the last two birthdays have gone pretty smoothly, but saying Happy Birthday as soon as I gain conscienceless seems to be harder than it sounds. This year I was fully prepared. I went to sleep repeating in my mind “Happy Birthday, happy birthday — first thing when you wake up, say happy birthday.” But I think Lisbeth has given up on me. In the morning she shook me awake and said, “It’s my birthday!” Apparently she figures that as long as one of us is surprised when we wake up, we’ll be okay.
Happy birthday baby. One of these years I’ll wake up before you do, but until then, keep reminding me.
I miss that lady.