I made the mistake of telling Rebecca her birthday was after Rachel’s. In the sense that she is the next person in this house to have a birthday, I was right.
But that’s not how a soon-to-be-four-year-old thinks.
Starting on Rachel’s birthday and every day thereafter, she has asked. “Is my biwtday tomoyyow?”
“Is my biwtday aftay tomoyyow?”
“. . . Strictly speaking, yes.”
She’s laid off the calendar questioning once I showed her how many weeks until her birthday, but today she sat me down for some in-depth discussion of the big day.
“Foy my biwtday, you an me an Wachew wiww go to de jumping p’ace and Hayden and Daddy wiww go to de stowe to get p’esents, an’ dey wiww make me a big! cake! And dey wiww get bLLoons . . .”
[For my birthday, you and me and Rachel will go to the jumping place and Hayden and Daddy will go to the store to get presents, and they will make me a big cake and they will get balloons.]
But it’s not just her immediate family she’s concerned with.
“An’ Nana wiww send me some p’esents. An’ we—me an’ Daddy—wiww make a bideo to teww hey it’s my biwtday so s’e can send me p’esents.”
[And Nana will send me some presents. And we—me and Daddy—will make a video to tell her it's my birthday so she can send me some presents.]
I’m already worried about her wedding.
Worse still, so’s she. This week, she asked me, “When wiww de maiw [mail] be hewe, and when wiww I get mawwied?”
Straight answers: I don’t know and I don’t know.
My Aunt Janie pointed out that maybe in light of the second question, it wasn’t M-A-I-L in the first. I agree .