Happy Birthweek!

Dad: "Happy Birthday!"

Me: "Um... actually, that's tomorrow."

Dad: "Oh... well, better a day sooner than a day later."

Me: "That's true."

We discuss Christmas for a bit.

Dad: "Well, have a great day. This is your birthday call!"

Me: "Thanks!"

I'm not sure which is more amusing - that my father felt the need to spell out that this was my birthday call (and not to expect one tomorrow) or that I'd gone into his Blackberry years ago to correct my birth date, previously a day late, thereby making myself indirectly responsible for this phone call.

To conclude: If I ever forget your birthday, I blame genetics.