Time to synchronize the blog watch and prepare for another Throwback post.
Happy Birthday to me! 1979.
Despite the number of candles that seem to be on this cake, this was my 9th birthday. The cake was yellow, but the icing was pastel green and baked by my father; the cook in the family.
The number of candles was limited because this was the year my parents thought that it would be funny to use trick candles. You know the kind. No matter how often or how hard you blow on them, they never go out. The only way to diffuse them is to dip the burning wicks in water. As a prank, it was cute, but since the joke was on me, I didn’t find it very funny.
This was also the year that my parent’s gave me my very own black Barbie doll. She wore a red shimmer dress, with red earrings, shoes, and a soft, curly, afro. This was a toy that I was supposed to receive for Christmas, the previous year, but since my brothers and I had been snooping for our holiday gifts, our parents punished us by withholding them until a future date. I still have trust issues because of that.
I don’t mind observing my birthday, but I don’t do parties (so many of them have ended like so many sad sitcom scenarios-one of these days, I’ll tell you about the time I witnessed my roommate baking me a birthday cake in the most unsanitary way and I sat by, pretending that I was “full”, as my party guests dug into and devoured a cake that you could not have gotten me to eat, even if there had been a winning lottery ticket inside). Never mind I don’t like gathering in large groups.
So long as I’m free to do something that I enjoy, like eating a whole case of red velvet whoopie pies, by myself, then I’m good for the whole year.