Celebrating Birthdays as “grown-ups” (BAHAHA) feels a bit weird to me. We’re too old to make a fuss and just write it off as we’re kids it’s what we do, and we don’t have children so we can’t throw ourselves giant birthday parties and pretend “it’s for the kids”. So here we are. Twenty-something (some of us more “something” than “twenty”) and unsure how to celebrate. Last year, Varun went with the stealth birthday–basically pretending it didn’t happen. This year, he went for Birthday Week. (Actually, when I suggested washing dishes yesterday he aptly noted that it’s Birthday Month. I have created a monster.)
On the day before Varun’s birthday, I decided it would be a great idea to start looking for his presents.
Because I love stress. Because I am a busy woman.
After calling every sports equipment store in an ever-widening circle, I finally found “Punjabi Sports” near Toronto. Somewhere in the back of my head, I made a mental note to look up Something About Cricket Equipment. Like what the bat should be made of…or whether he needs two bats for a game (like Tennis) or one (like baseball).
Varun also requested poutine for his birthday dinner. Wanting to at least pretend to be adults, I threw in salad as a compromise. I walked to the farmer’s market to buy cheese curds only to find it was closed. Like it is every Wednesday. Much more walking confirmed my suspicions: not everyone in our town buys cheese curds. In fact, most people don’t. Sigh.
Fast forward to Thursday morning. I dropped Varun off at work so I could drive to the cricket store. About 10 km away I realized I had forgotten to look up anything about cricket. I mustered up what little knowledge I had (ball, bat, wicket…Sachin Tendulkar) and prepared myself for Another Awkward White Girl Moment. Then I had a revelation: I could pretend to be Australian. Because they play cricket. And that would be less awkward.
Thankfully, the woman in the cricket store thought it was totally normal for me to walk in clueless and ready to spend money. She helped me pick out a bat for use in the park, spring-loaded wickets and a “cute” (my words) red ball. She even assured me that No, I did not need to buy two of everything.
Somehow I smuggled the whole set upstairs and got it set up while Varun napped.
And guess what: He loved it.
And not to worry, I found cheese curds: YUM.
In all of the birthday bliss Varun said we should have poutine every week. Wanting to avoid massive coronary shut downs, I said the only sensible thing I could think of: “How about this? For every two weeks that you work out more than 3 times per week, we’ll have poutine.” Remember the part about us being grown-ups? Maybe by the next Rana birthday…
How do you celebrate? What’s your favourite adult birthday so far?