"Celebrated" might be a bit misleading. I graciously accepted the well-wishes of roughly 85 friends on Facebook whilst simutaniously pouting (whenever my lovely wife brought up the topic) worse than Eeyore after watching Bridge to Terabithia.
I mean, it's not like I didn't see it coming. 42 follows 41 famously....even for someone with Bible College math skills. So what was my problem? Why did I refuse to allow my kids to throw me a party? Why so sad, vanilla bear?
Perhaps it had something to do with the way the number sounds. Forty too.
Like it came at the end of a string of insults/bad news.
"Hey! Guess what? You have bifocals. When you can't find them you have to pay your 4 year old to hold your reading material 8 1/2 feet away so you can enjoy it. You once wore dark socks and short pants...sure it was just to run out to the mailbox, but once back inside you kicked off the shoes and LEFT THE SOCKS ON FOR OVER SEVEN HOURS!! ...eeeww...think of the children! You now have "stories" about your annual prostate exams...and share them. You've seen your favorite childhood band rock out an AARP benefit on PBS and thought nothing of it other than you wish you knew how to use your DVR so you could see it again and again.
Oh yeah....and you're FORTY...TOO!"
Obviously, it could be worse. I could be 42 and have to live with Rachel Maddow and Keith Olbermann in a windowless apartment with no A/C, no ear plugs and only a Pop-Up Book version of "Love in the time of Cholera" for entertainment.
Maybe it's because the current world average life expectancy is 70 years. I'm well past Middle Age. I'm also well past the life expectancy of your average Bar Wench living in Bronze Age Sweeden, as well as your run-of-the mill Tangerine Inspector of the Upper Paleolithic Era.
Yep. I checked.
I guess the deal is that life is short no matter what stick you use to measure it. Why celebrate surviving another year? I just happened to be blessed to live in the U.S. in the 21st Century with its Flinstones Chewables, Herbal Tea and Sham-wow-a-riffic German technology! Oh, and also lucky to have ridden my motorcycle into a corn field last month instead of, say, a Buick.
Why don't we instead celebrate Mother on our birthday? Come on, she did the heavy lifting! Even you C-section mooks that "came through the window" like my kids...I was THERE! I looked! (Not my best move...I'll save that for another blog) My kids should give my WIFE a party on their birthdays!
YEAH! Now I'm feeling better! I know what to do now! Fight to change birthdays to "I Was Had" days!
Who's with me?
