Pesky Jesus

In the pub last night, an assembled group of friends sung Happy Birthday so loudly and discordantly that a normally placid dog ran out of the door and down the road. I almost did the same.

I have always found birthdays very embarrassing and I never actually tell anyone that it is mine unless I am broke and need free drinks. Someone always seems to remember though, which I find amazing. I once forgot that it was my own birthday, only remembering the next day when I saw the date.

I know lots of people who make a point of telling everyone that it is their birthday, presumably because they want the attention. That isn't the sort of attention that I normally crave, but I suppose it is a part of their childhood which they never left behind. There are lots of aspects of my childhood which I cling on to, but birthdays isn't one of them.

My sister contacted me to find out whether I was 65 or 66. She is ten years older than me, so here memory is probably failing. She is also a Jehovah's Witness, so she didn't actually wish me a happy birthday, just asked how old I was. They don't do birthdays.

She was born on December the 25th so her actual birthday was always eclipsed by Christmas. I seriously think that her nativity was a prime factor in her becoming a J.W. - they don't do Christmas either.

At some point on Christmas night, someone would suddenly remember that it was also her birthday, and feel very guilty for forgetting up until that point due to the other excitement. She pretended that she didn't care, but I know she did. You could see it in her eyes.