"my" day

I have enjoyed more than my fair share of memorable birthdays in my forty seven years. Turning sixteen was cool, but I had been driving everywhere I wanted for the previous year already. I don't really remember twenty, but thirty seemed monumental even though I ruined the surprise party that my wife had planned. Something came up and the only way she could get me to go to the party was to tell me about it. I did my best to act surprised, but she wasn't pleased. Forty came and went with little fanfare and now I'm closing in on fifty. Another birthday with a zero!
But all forty seven of these, as good as they were,pale in comparison to the birthdays I now look forward to. I love to recieve gifts and eat cake. I enjoy my yearly "fifteen minutes", and Facebook makes you feel like a celebrity. Just the fact that I have survived another year, while some have not, makes me happy. I have alway thought there was nothing better than "my" day, but then I had a daughter.
For one day out of the year (a week if you milk it) I could play like a kid. I could wear a grass skirt and get hit with water balloons. I could be the first one found because I was too big in a game of hide and seek. I could come in last place in every party game and not feel like a loser. It would feel like "my" day too, and after we rested up we would talk about it for weeks. This year my daughter will be thirteen.
A memorable birthday. Becoming a teenager! Cell phones and I-tunes cards will replace the dolls and toys. A few to spend the night instead of a crowd to enjoy the day. Cake and ice cream of course, but probably no hula skirts and water guns. More talking and texting than playing. My wife and I will be more like hosts than guests. I will have to be on my best behavior because (I already knew this) I can be embarsssing. Times are changing.
I have watched her grow into a young lady in what seems like overnight. From hanging on my every word to correcting to my grammer. From laughing at my jokes to telling one funnier than mine. I miss the little girl, but I am proud of what she is now. I may not be one of the kids at the party anymore, but this will still be "my" day.