Every since I was a little girl, every single Labor Day weekend my sister and I have had our shared birthday party. I despised this. Hated it. Longed for my autonomy. Unfortunately, in a working class family such as mine, if there was to be a party at all, I assure you, it would be a shared one.
I was born three years minus three days before Little-Miss-Steal-My-Thunder.
What’s so funny is now we voluntarily carry on this tradition.
Even though I have “officially” stopped celebrating birthdays and I really get cranky over anything that smacks of a birthday party, a little family get-together that
better may or may not include gifts for my sister and myself is perfectly all right with me.
This year was no different.
We got together at a little restaurant and had lunch and exchanged gifts and reminded each other that even though we argued every single day of the first 25 years of knowing each other, we’re now both mothers and great friends and we really enjoy celebrating the event of both of our births.
Have a great
birthday holiday weekend!
Until next time . . .