One of the joys of birthdays as a child are the tears.
Good tears, bad tears.
A lot of tears, a few tears.
Whatever the reason, crying is a natural part of a child’s birthday parties. There are very few birthday parties that I remember as being fantastic, but, like many people, there are a few really bad birthdays that will never leave my mind.
The worst birthday party I ever had was my eighth birthday party. This was my second birthday since moving from my childhood home to a city across the state, and I did not want a big birthday party. All I wanted was for the cousins I was closest to, who happened to live in the same city as us, to join my family and I at our house for a calm birthday party. Luckily, they agreed.
My older sister is the oldest grandchild on my mom’s side of the family which led most of my cousins to look up to her. The twins, who were my age, and their younger sister were no different. Throughout this birthday party, the three cousins and my brother were all paying attention to and playing with my sister. They played “Just Dance,” a game I hate, and ignored me in favor of my older sister.
After enough time passed, I couldn’t handle it anymore; I was the least important person at my own birthday party. I ran upstairs to hide in my brother’s closet, as one might imagine a masking autistic eight-year-old to do. I would have hid in my own closet, but it was filled from floor-to-ceiling in shelves. So I hid in the dark of my brother’s closet and cried. It took at least ten minutes for someone to try to find the birthday kid, too. Needless to say, when I saw the episode of “Bluey” about Bingo’s birthday when my nephew was watching it, I related a bit too much.
This story was based on Birthdays are the Worst.
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