It’s “Your Special Day”
I don’t really understand why we, as human, celebrate birthdays. You were forcibly ejected from your mothers body, through no choice of you own. You did little to nothing to assist in the process and yet you are celebrated on the anniversary of this event. More after the jump.
So, there you are, a screaming mess covered in goo and it is already set in stone that every time the earth revolves around the sun people have to pretend a bit more than usual that they give a squat about you. You’ll often get a cake, a few presents and you might even use the opportunity to take a little ‘me’ time. My question is simple, why? Now, I’m not being completely negative here, I’m just saying that you probably had other minor victories or accomplishments that DID deserve to be rewarded for. Instead you rewarded because you finally came into the world after being a layabout for nine months. Are birthdays “survival” rewards? Yeah, it’s tough out there, but you’re not trudging through a gator invested swamp everyday why monkeys through coconuts at your head. At least here in the U.S. the chances of you living another year are actually much, much, much greater than you not living another year. Hold the phone! I did actually look this one up, and yes, birthdays were at one time celebrated because you survived another year. Let’s not forget that back in medieval time you were lucky if you got old enough to have a drivers license (if they would have had drivers licenses). Actually back them most died in their mid 40’s which is why mom jeans didn’t have to be invented until much later on.
So I guess you deserve a little pat on the back or something for every year you don’t jump in front of train or get drunk and try to wrestle a bear or something. Congrats, you survived another year! And congrats to me as well, it’s my birthday today too.