November 11, 12, 13.
These were the options presented to my Mom when considering my birth. Thirteen was bad luck, and she'd be busy celebrating her own birth on the 12th. Plus, 11/11 would be easy to remember into old age.
So plans were made.
But I did what I always do.
I line up the glasses. I obsess over the font. I fret over color coordination.
And I make the plans. I'm a planner.
So at 1:46am, November 5, 1975, I came into the world. Feet first.
The way a planner intends.
My brother's delivery doctor would eventually run for President of the United States. My delivery doctor was hung over from a party when he performed the C-section.
He was not a planner.
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hahahaaa....too funny. Love your sarcastic witty-ness.
ReplyDeleteHave a fabulous birthday!
ReplyDeleteP: Thank you! Not everyone feels the same way :-)
ReplyDeleteWAI: Thanks dear! I'm trying...
During my birth, my father was across the street from the hospital, having a drink. If I were him, I would need to numb my feelings before living a life with me, too. Can't blame the guy.
ReplyDeleteAhhhh memories. I knew you when, I loved you first. Thanks for giving me such a wonderful daughter.
ReplyDeleteC: Your therapy is wearing off...
ReplyDeleteJ's M: I loved you first too!
Hippo Birdie, Jamie. I hope it's been an awesome day!
ReplyDeleteAnd it's interesting to hear that your love for punctuality started from birth.
Born ready to run!
ReplyDeleteHappy Belated Birthday (do you know I was HERE on your birthday, got distracted reading your blog, and didn't comment to wish you a Happy Birthday? Lousy planning that...).
Have a wonderful weekend Jamie!
I hope you had an awesome birthday! Sorry you got the raw end of the doctor choices.
ReplyDeleteToo funny! I'm a planner too. I get it!
ReplyDeleteHapy belated! I meant to tweet you happy birthday. I am also a planner. But sometimes I forget whether I've done something or just thoroughly planned it so much that I envisioned it happening. I'm sure you can relate....
ReplyDelete