Don’t even get me started on Easter.
Pardon my French, but December birthdays suck balls. What’s even worse is when your birthday is on December 25th, like mine. Everyone’s so busy with Christmas that they don’t even remember your special day, and if by some miracle they do, they’re usually too busy to celebrate.
Have you ever tried to throw a birthday party on Christmas? It’s almost impossible to get anyone to come, and the people that do are obviously there out of guilt, or because a family member dragged them. Every year I put out crackers, and every year they go uneaten because no one shows up.
And presents—man, don’t even get me started on presents. Everyone combines your birthday and Christmas presents into the same gift, the cheap bastards. Like when the three wise men visited me in the manger, they gave me just one present each. And these dudes were, like, kings, so you know they had money. Hey Balthazar, I don’t mean to sound greedy but I’m pretty sure you can afford more than one tin of myrrh, dude.
Some people think that because I’m Jewish I must hate Christmas, but that’s not true at all. Believe it or not, it’s usually my Jewish friends who completely ignore my birthday every year. I actually have a lot of Christian friends—at least a dozen—so I’m okay with Christmas. I’m not trying to be a Scrooge or anything, I just want people to stop chugging eggnog and watching It’s A Wonderful Life long enough to acknowledge my birthday. Is that too much to ask?
When I was younger, I tried getting my dad to let me celebrate my birthday in September so I wouldn’t have to compete with Santa Claus for everyone’s attention, but he never let me. Sometimes I almost feel like he wants me to suffer.
Still, it could always be worse. At least a December birthday is better than no birthday at all. Imagine being a Jehovah’s Witness! Those poor schmucks don’t get to celebrate their birthdays or Christmas. Whenever one of them comes to my door, I try to remember that and resist the temptation to turn off all the lights and pretend not to be home. The very least I can do is say hello and take a Watchtower (you can always throw it away later, after they leave).
Anyway, I know all of this might sound a little whiny, and trust me, the irony is not lost on me. “But you’re Jesus Christ! The Savior! You’re all anyone talks about!” everyone says. Well, words are sweet and all, but they won’t keep you warm at night, and they definitely won’t suddenly turn into a hoverboard or GoPro HERO. At the very least, email me a $25 Amazon gift certificate. Hell, send me a Jacqui Lawson e-card. It really doesn’t take much these days.
You probably have an office holiday party to get to or some ridiculous toy to buy your dumb nephew, so I’ll wrap this up. Just be on the lookout for a Facebook invite from me. No pressure, I’m not expecting you to come, but if you could you at least find the time in your busy schedule to RSVP, that would really help me with the cracker situation.
