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I forgot my sister Jill’s birthday last week. Who, besides Barbara Streisand and Morgan Earp have birthdays on April 24th? If I hadn’t looked on Facebook a few days after her birthday, I still wouldn’t remember. Facebook knows everything.
I used to be as smart as Facebook about remembering my family’s birthdays. This year, Jill’s B-day just snuck up on me. Hey, I can’t remember names, so how can anyone expect me to remember their birthday? – I’m asking!
Jill is three years younger than me. She always has been. I have no remembrance of Jill being born. I was only three years old, so nobody ever told me anything. Our big sister Lynda was home babysitting the rest of her siblings when Dad and Mom drove up. I didn’t know why Mother had been.
After Daddy helped Mother out of the car, I came running. “Mother, Dennis Ray hit me!” Since before high school, I called my big brother by his first and middle name. Mom only called him Dennis Ray, when she was upset. She called me Mark Scott only when I got in trouble with Dennis Ray. Mom had our names down.
When Mother exited the car and she was holding something wrapped in hospital-swaddling clothes. I looked at her and said, “What’s that?” Mom told me it was my new sister. I turned to Dennis and said, “Dennis Ray, did you know anything about this?” He wouldn’t have told me if he did.
I made up that entire episode because I can’t recall many episodes that far back. Mother came home with Jill on April 26th, because back then, the doctor kept childbearing mothers an extra day or two at the hospital. Nowadays, they’ve got machines that can birth you so much faster. Probably.
Well, that was the stuff I don’t remember about Jill being born. I can’t imagine how old I was when I remembered her birth date. I’m thinking 12 because I was slow to catch on. So, I’ve been able to remember Jill’s birthdays for the past 60 years. Now, I’m back to being a kid.
I still have the rest of the family birthdays carefully stored in the left lower region of my hippocampus. I have no problem with my big sister Lynda because her birthday comes a week later than mine. Big Al’s is two days before mine, and Kay’s is two weeks before mine. I’m actually two weeks younger than my lovely wife, yet some of the old guys at church keep asking her, “Why’d you marry this old man?” It seems your closest friends are the ones who really enjoy sticking it to you. Take Brad Meyer for instance. -- Don’t get me started.
The eldest Hayter boy was born on, uh… Well, it was on Elvis Presley’s birthday, so Larry must’ve been born on January 8th. Virginia Pliler is the one who told me the date of Elvis’ birthday. For whatever reason, Elvis’ birthday is now what helps me remember Larry’s. That’s Virginia’s fault.
My sister Sue was born on the last week of January. I’m thinking the 28th. -- Give me a second. – It turns out, Susan’s birthday falls on January 30th. My big brother Dennis, the best friend I ever had, was born on September 20th. The thing about that is that Dennis had a birthday three weeks after school started, so he had to wait another year before he could start school. He was practically a year older than the other kids. I’ll give you a second to think that over. It took me about four years.
My birthday was two weeks before school started, so I got in right under the wire, which made me the youngest kid in most of my classes. When I started first grade, I could only name two states. Texas and Oklahoma. Is that sad or what? Had kindergarten been invented and the state paid for it, I would know at least five states and the difference between a triangle and a square.
Mom was born on February 18th, which is four days after Valentine's Day. That’s one way I remember it. That and it’s also the day that Pluto was discovered. The planet, not the dog. Only Pluto the planet isn’t a planet anymore. Mickey Mouse’s dog is still Pluto, but not the planet.
Had Pluto the Planet been out there by itself, we could still call it a planet. But it’s located in a belt of a bunch of asteroids, several of which are bigger than it is. Some astronomers call it a small planet, but they need to stop that or else astronomers will have to come up with names for the larger asteroids in the same asteroid belt. That would destroy the minds of school children. Can you imagine trying to put together one of those models of the solar system with 23 planets in it?! Science Fairs would cease to exist.
Okay, forget that. Let’s get to Faris’ birthday. Dad was born on December 24th, the third worse day to have a birthday. February 29th would be the worst. Christmas Day would be the second worse. Mom had to remind us a week before Christmas that Dad’s birthday was coming up. We took turns saying, “What? Does that mean we have to get him a present for his birthday and one for Christmas? We need more money Mother!” – She’d say, “Go ask your daddy.”
My Dad had a tough life. It’s bad enough that he had to pay to raise seven kiddos, but God also made it where he was born the day before Christmas. Yes, he had a Father’s Day, but that just meant he had to give us money to buy his birthday gifts, his Christmas gifts, and his Father’s Day gifts.
And I’ve got to tell you, considering how
much he gave us, he got some pretty punk presents. He was never wanting for
bars of shaving soap. – Well, assuming I’ve missed yours, Happy Birthday!
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