After talking with a friend yesterday I realized that, outside my immediate family, no one friends ever remembers my exact birth date. For the last 20 years I’ve always celebrated my birthday on Super Bowl Sunday and people have just become accustomed to whatever day the big game is played is the day it’s usually celebrated. This means the week before the Super Bowl I receive a lot of emails and phone calls from friends wishing me a happy birthday usually included with some sort of apology for not knowing the exact day. Such was the case with talking to this friend yesterday.
The fact that no one seems to remember the exact date isn’t a big deal. The Super Bowl has only fallen on my exact birthday a handful of times in the last 20 years. And now that the game is played the first Sunday in February, it will never be played on my birthday again. For the last 10 years these big game parties have been more of a Super Bowl party than a birthday celebration. If it wasn’t for the fact that Marathon Girl wants to do something to celebrate me getting older, I probably wouldn’t make any effort to blend the two together at all. I’m perfectly happy with just having a big Super Bowl party.
So Happy Birthday to me…whatever day it happens to be.