It must be a little disconcerting to turn three. To have a rudimentary understanding of birthdays as a day when people clap, sing, and blow out candles on their dessert and yet not to know when your own birthday is.
And then one morning you wake up and your older siblings are in your room jumping about, telling you it's your birthday, and trying to make you wear a funny hat.
It's much harder to be five and to know not only when your birthday is, but to know how far off it is as well.
I know this is true because H has been talking about his birthday ever since he finishing unwrapping his presents on Christmas morning.
"Your birthday isn't until spring," I remind him on an almost daily basis.
"It's almost spring now," he said last night. "The snow is melting."
"Your birthday isn't until after Easter," I said.
Sometimes it pays to be specific.
song: You Say It's Your Birthday • artist: The Beatles
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