Today was my birthday.
Is, rather. Today is my birthday. June 24. I have completed seventeen rotations around the sun and am now undergoing my eighteenth. Welcome to this post. Your presents can be in the form of comments. ;)
The day began with a relatively toss-turn morning as I procrastinated in the delicious warmth of my bed and waited for seven-thirty. I got up at around seven-forty, had a shower, read my Bible, and then had breakfast.
Breakfast was a unique and delicious affair. My grandmother had stayed the night, since on the previous evening we had our fortnightly speaking club meeting, and she cooked breakfast—bagels, pancakes, egg, along with mangoes, cream cheese mixed with tuna, maple syrup, golden syrup…yeah, that’s not an ordinary breakfast for me. (My ordinary breakfast is a mere crust of bread with cheese on top, sometimes with beetroot chutney or honey and butter.) So my birthday breakfast was delicious.
During breakfast, my sister gave me a blue highlighter and a pen. Since I’m a writer, I guess any pen is a good present for me. After breakfast, my grandmother gave me a beautiful little chocolate bar.
And that’s mine, ye chocoholics, so fingers off.
After breakfast, my grandmother left. On any ordinary Sampson birthday, my other grandmother would come. However, she was sick. And that’s not an ordinary thing for this grandmother. So that was disappointing, but she did ring later on in the day.
Also after breakfast, I completed my entire schedule of twenty-three different items. Well. I completed twenty-one and skipped the other two. And I finished the thirtieth lesson of a (nominally) thirty-week course based on Henle Latin. Tomorrow I’ll do—or at least begin—the cumulative review. This took a while, and this was interspersed with family exercises, reading books to little kids, and preparing the curry for lunch. Lunch was an ordinary affair, by the way. After starting at nine in the morning, I finished my schoolwork at 6:27 in the evening, a minute before tea. I expect a lot of you call tea dinner. In this family, some call it tea, some call it dinner. We’re weird. And proud of it.
After tea/dinner, out came the two cakes, the ice cream, the potato chips, the jelly, the L&P. (For all you Americans and other people who don’t know what L&P is, it’s a fizzy drink that’s world famous in NZ. Stands for Lemon and Paeroa.) I had a piece of banana-cake-with-chocolate-icing and a piece of hurry-up-cake-with-blue-icing, some boysenberry and lemon jelly, some boysenberry ice cream, some The Works chips. Right now, I’m stuffed. But I wouldn’t mind another piece of cake. Yeah, it’s just because there’s cake left that I want it. Mea culpa.
Finally, I escaped to my refuge (my computer) and breathed a long sigh of relief as I checked my favourite forum, my email, and the blogs I generally read. Then I settled in to write a new post on my blog and make every chocoholic absolutely mad.
That’s been my birthday. As I told Mum—”Normal.” A normal day. As my older brother put it, exceptionally average. And it has been a relatively normal day for me, what with schoolwork. But, throughout that normal-ness, there’s been a new thought…I’m seventeen now. Sixteen automatically sounds young. And I’m looking forward to my eighteenth rotation around the sun.