My dad and I used to have a running joke that would start about 6 months before each birthday.
I'd call Dad up and this is what would transpire:
"Hey, Daddy. Guess what?"
"My birthday is in __ months/days!"
"Bah humbug! That's only if you live that long!"
Obviously, I don't get to have that conversation with him now, but I still play it back in my head as a reminder of why I used to like my birthday. Thanks to Dad and Mom, I'm healthy, intact and another year older and wiser.
(Or so I'd have you believe...)
If you've ever wondered how a military brat from Colorado ends up in New Orleans with a southern accent, well, here you are:
We're bypassing my middle-school years. They were unpleasant and puberty was terribly unkind to me. ;)
And there you have it. :)