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.
Labels: birthday, family, forgetfulness
posted by Ryan @ 9:39 a.m.
2 comments
2 Comments:
That's so mean! Messing with a man's BB is up there with kicking him in the balls.
Hmm... good suggestion. I don't think anyone would forget my birthday after someone suffered a kick to the balls as a result.
I'm not sure if I could get away with that on my father, though. He's pretty wily. I'd probably need to catch him by surprise.
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