There is high excitement in our house this weekend, or at least in one particular quarter. On Monday, it is my daughter’s birthday, her last as a pre-teen. We have heard about little else for at least a month.
I’m sorry to admit that there have been moments when the daily – sometimes hourly – countdown to the big day has made me feel irritable. A week or so ago I told my daughter that if she told me it was nearly her birthday one more time, I would cancel it. I said it jokingly (OF COURSE!), but the prospect delighted my son, who at half his sister’s age can be perfectly horrid. Now, every time there is a mention of the fêted date, my son chants: “Cancel! Cancel! Cancel!” I’d like to mute them both sometimes.
Given how longed for our daughter was, and how unlikely her arrival seemed for such an age, I should really celebrate the anniversary of her birth with as much relish as she does. And I’m sure when Monday comes, I’ll be feeling the joy that comes with seeing one of the kids so happy.
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