"Woooohoooo....on Thursday the 12th I'm on vacation".

"Vacation?? I didn't see a note in your notebook"

"Moooom", she then rolls her eyes in display of her lack of patient with me..."it's godmom's birthday, there is no school and no work.  It's a national holiday".

"You wish and so does your God Mom, the only lucky bastard for life is your uncle who was born on Veteran's Day, you have school tomorrow".

"Awww man...I've failed again", she answered

"But hey, can I ask you a question?  Is my birthday a Holiday?", I stupidly ask.

She pauses and thinks too much for my taste.

"No, your's is on a Saturday".

That's what I get after 9 months in waiting and a having a child ripped out of my midsection: an announcement that the day I was born ain't so special in her books.

Ain't kids grand?

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