1. “Do you get one present for Christmas and birthdays?”
Yes. And I will never forget the people who have done this to me. You know who you are.
2. “Your poor mother.”
Listen, my mother had five children at home. I bet a few painkillers, a bed all to herself and baby being taken care of in the nursery was just fine with her. In fact, it might have been her Best. Christmas. Ever. Plus, she had me. Bonus!
3. “Does Santa bring you extra presents?”
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No, he doesn’t, and everytime someone asked me that as a child I felt like I must have been doing something wrong. I always wondered why he didn’t get the hint when I told him about my doubly special day. Or why he didn’t wish me a happy birthday when I visited him at Ann & Hope department store? Maybe slip a little something under the tree for the girl who is being tortured by Birth-mas presents?
4. “When’s the party?”
What party? When you are born on Christmas, there is no birthday party on your birthday. Sure, you can have a cake in the afternoon. But a big blowout with all your girls spending the night? Not gonna happen. I stopped asking for a party by age 10. The bonus is your half-birthday party on June 25. School’s out, the backyard pool is ready and, even though your mom won’t allow presents for a brief time in middle school, yours is the coolest birthday party on the circuit.
5. Nothing at all.
There’s something terribly embarrassing to be at a Christmas party on Christmas Day and someone reminding all of your friends that it’s your birthday. No one ever remembers, and that’s fine with me. But calling them on the fact they’ve forgotten your only special day of the year not only embarrasses them, but it embarrasses me. I mean, who can compete with J.C. anyway?
6. “That sucks.”
Existential debates on your soul aside, and whether said soul chooses your family and birthday, I didn’t choose the day I was born. I didn’t know my 5-year-old sister would curse me as my father drove my three-weeks late pregnant mother away from my house, or my 14-year-old brother would be riding his new bike down the hall while my three other sisters cried at the window. I didn’t mean to ruin Christmas. But does being born on Christmas really suck? Emphatically, no.
It’s easy to remember and, deep down, every person born on Christmas feels just a little more special than the rest.
Now, being born on Dec. 26? That sucks.
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