When we celebrated my nephew’s seventh birthday, I wasn’t keen on the idea of him turning six the year before. Despite my angst, I realized that there was nothing I could do about his turning seven. There we were, celebrating getting another year older.
He was all excited with the attention, especially with the presents. When asked if he wanted to open presents first or have the cake first, he shouted, “Presents!”
His two-year-old sister kept wandering around chanting, “Cake! Cake!
I took the opportunity to share a life lesson.
“You know, the only reason we are here is so that we can have cake. It’s really not about you. Your birthday is an excuse to have cake.”
He looked confused. However, his excitement about the presents prevailed, leaving any further discussion for another time.
I noticed that the adults were all nodding their heads. His mother was fighting back the tears.
Her sister put her arm around her. “I know it is a harsh reality,” she said comfortingly. “It’s better he learns from family while he’s young.”
“But he is growing up so fast. He started doubting Santa Claus. He even set traps to try to catch him. I don’t know how I am going to get through Easter. The Easter Bunny has always been his favorite.”
He will have another birthday next year. Soon enough, he will understand that the critical decision is not what gift to buy but whether to go with buttercream or cream cheese icing.
Thanks to technology, the birthday person doesn’t even have to be at the party. Fire up Skype or Photoshop them in the group shots later. If there is cake, no one will notice.
My niece circled the room again, chanting, “Cake! Cake!”
She understands.
A couple of months later, there was another birthday celebration for his brother — another chance to try to stop this madness.
On the drive down to Birmingham, I rehearsed the arguments that I hoped would convince him NOT to turn 10. It’s too soon. I needed more time to adjust.
Wrangling him was difficult. There was a huge waterslide, lots of cousins squealing with excitement as they slid down, and, of course, presents.
Just as I was about to make my move to pull him aside, my niece diverted my attention with a big slice of cake. She pulled the same trick when my other great-nephew turned 7, and my great-niece turned 3. I couldn’t concentrate with such a delicious distraction in front of me. It had buttercream icing. She gave me a corner piece with a red balloon.
I was weak. I gave up. I can’t stop it.
If they insist on having birthdays, cake will be my consolation. A big corner piece with a balloon. Or a flower.
