Remember when you were a kid and there were three holidays that you always looked forward to? There was of course Christmas where you had expectations of hitting the gift jackpot between relatives and of course Santa Claus. There was the fourth of July which gave you a legal reason to play with explosive devices and typically ended when you blew up something you probably didn’t mean to (hey, that was my story when I was 10 and I am not about to change it now since I still fear that my mom will find out what REALLY happened at “The Great Firecracker Incident of 1971” and she’ll call me and tell me I am grounded). Lastly there was your birthday. It was that special and magical day where you were the center of attention and your family gushed over what a great kid you were and how deserving you were of all the presents and wonderful cake. Your birthday was the most special of these three since you rarely had to share it with anyone else (unless you were a twin or your parents defied the laws of probability and had multiple children born on the same day but different years). As we get older we can never seem to rekindle the magic that those early childhood birthdays held. Families try to do their best but you feel a little awkward jumping out of bed first thing in the morning and rushing into the living room hoping the family would be gathered around the table surrounded by brightly wrapped presents and wearing cute little pointed party hats.


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