I kicked a lot of goals in the picking-the-right-husband tournament. One I did not manage to get through the posts, however, was the ‘knowing how to treat a gal on her birthday’ goal.
I probably should have worked it out when we were first dating in the weeks leading up to Christmas. Oh, he gave me a present, alright. A kind of thoughtful, kind of romantic gift for a board game lover like me. But a card containing his outpourings of devotion? Or even a mere gift tag that he signed himself? No. Just one of his business cards taped to the outside of the box. My quizzical look was met with protestations about how impressed I should be that he wrapped it. He didn’t wrap for just anyone, apparently.
Birthdays, I soon discovered, would take the ballgame to a whole other level. It’s just not as easy for him to wrap his head around the preparations required. Or even, you know, remember it!
What really pisses me off is that his birthday is just 17 days before mine. This means that every year of the almost 20 we have now been together, he gets a this-is-how-to-treat-a-person-you-love-on-their-birthday tutorial. 17 days. That is all he needs to retain the information for. The tutorial includes a special breakfast, thoughtful (though not expensive) gifts from spouse and children, singing (ah, Happy Birthday that would be, and not from the shower), a dinner out, cake, candles, and a general ‘you-rule-today-because-it’s-your-birthday’ attitude. Every year I show him how it’s done. And every year he struggles. Or worse still, doesn’t struggle at all. Just…doesn’t.
I guess, in fairness, I should interject here that he doesn’t have an issue with gift-giving generally. In fact, he often comes home from the post office with the spoils of an online shopping expedition in my honour. It’s coordinating his kindness with birthdays that seems to be the problem. And for a Taurus like me who is ALL ABOUT BIRTHDAYS, this can be, well, A PROBLEM! And believe me when I say I am not the needy, you-must-give-me-diamonds kind of girl.
It’s not even really about the presents (okay, it’s a little bit about the presents). I just think birthdays are, or should be, a big deal.
A couple of years back, a five-year run of low-level birthday attention culminated in the shit royally hitting the fan.
We were staying up the coast with my sister and brother-in-law. It was the night before my birthday and my sister invited us up for a nice dinner and to stay on overnight and have a nice birthday breakfast. She had nearly two decades of awareness about why a nice birthday breakfast at her hands might be warranted.
Hilarious birthday cake fails. A+ for effort. Post continues below…