There seems to have been a lot of talk in our house lately about birthdays. Smith has been invited to a few parties lately, and Smith's cousin Chase had a birthday while he was here visiting last week. On Saturday, I was taking Smith to another of his buddy's birthday parties and I think Smith got to wondering when it would be his turn to have a birthday party again.
"Dad, the next birthday party is going to be for me, right?"
I replied, "Actually, your birthday is a long ways off. We have to celebrate Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Easter, the 4th of July, and a few other holidays before we will celebrate your birthday again."
"Oh . . . what day is my birthday?" Smith asked.
Right then, we arrived at the party. There were about 50 people in attendance: 20 kids and 30 parents, all crammed into the old CU bowling alley. The host of the party greeted us, as did a few other parents and friends. I said hello, but Smith's head was still stuck on picturing his own birthday party, so he returned their greetings by screaming out, "I LOVE SEPTEMBER 11TH! I LOVE SEPTEMBER 11TH! I AM GOING TO HAVE THE BIGGEST PARTY IN THE WORLD ON SEPTEMBER 11TH!"
I think every head in the room turned and stared at us. I am sure my face turned a deep shade of red . . . maybe purple. I was able to explain to tell those within close proximity that September 11th is Smith's birthday and he is already looking forward to his next birthday party; however, the rest of the people at the party may still think we are terrorists.