Welcome to the year 2003, this would be when I was turning ten. When you're little you wait forever for your birthday, seemingly thinking that every year that you get closer to being double digits comes slower than the last. You cross days off your calendar, count hours, minutes and seconds until that day. When everyone shows up for your birthday party (mine was spongebob themed,) you see your present mountain grow taller and taller with every relative's arrival. Now birthdays, they are the bomb, 1. you get presents and 2. you get cake. Who doesn't love cake? I mean come on. Cake is equivalent to making the game winning play or winning that stuffed animal in the claw machine. Yeah, the one in Walmart, where you put in more quarters than it would actually take to buy the thing! But the fact that you got had the perfect angle drop of the claw and the right speed of pulling the stuffed bear up so it wouldn't fall off of the hook, the rejoicing feeling you get when pull out that stuffed purple and yellow bear out of that little slot. That in my mind is the feeling you get when you see your birthday cake. You spot you mother, from across the room, bringing out that cake you so carefully picked out at Hy-Vee (you know out of those books that have choicing all the way from Hello Kitty cakes to Power Ranger ones!.)
But the real prize is not the presents or the birthday cake that you recieve at your birthday party. Its the fact that you get to eat cake for breakfast for the next week! You don't even have to feel bad about eating it every morning either, because something about it being your birthday cake, entitles you to induldge yourself for the next seven days. It almost makes it a right of passage. I mean you can't waste birthday cake and your parents can't tell you no:) So induldge because this birthday "right of passage" only comes once a year and its more like having a post birthday week. It's hands down awesome!
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