Ree’s musings

Okay, fine, world: yes, I am another year older.

Dad called me today—twice, because I missed answering the phone at first—to wish me a happy birthday. He took me out for lunch, just the two of us, and I had a Mountain Dew just when I was a kid. (Except that this Dew was Diet so it wouldn’t be so hard on my teeth.) We talked about travel, food, remodeling, and everything else, which no doubt breaks quantum physics in some way but we did so there.

I did find out why his wife had known my birth year: the present he gave me today was one of those “things that happened the year you were born” books. Aha. That solves that mystery!

I feel so special. I know that it’s not good to feel like a super special snowflake; what I mean is that I feel that I am special to my dad. It’s nice to have a strong reminder of that, so I can better fend off my massive insecurity.

As I told my dad, I wasn’t looking forward to this birthday—but if adding one to my age means I get to have a special meal out with my dad, then it's totally worth it.

In fact, I'd like to have a birthday every month now, so that I can have more one-on-one time with my dad. I can think of something that happens every month that I would gladly switch around to happening only once a year...