“Oh, no! Another December birthday?” After all the right responses, this was Mark’s reaction last March when I told him I was pregnant. Fortunately, his math was wrong and Photobaby was due on Thanksgiving (and then had the good sense to be born even earlier, avoiding all major holidays).Mark’s reaction is understandable, as his birthday is four days after Christmas, and mine is seven days before. Now, both our parents worked hard to ensure our birthdays were special and not just lumped into one umbrella December celebration. And my family had even more obstacles in that arena than his, because I wasn’t even the only person (in our family) born that month. Growing up, my granddad and a cousin both had December birthdays. These days, three of my cousin’s kids have December birthdays. So, all in all, it’s just a really busy month.
And it’s a cold month, too, in both sense of the word. I don’t know how many of my birthday parties were cancelled due to bad weather or bronchitis.
But the worst thing about being born in December is the candy cane.
In recent years, Christians have tried to commandeer the candy cane, saying it was invented as a Christian symbol and represents our rock solid foundation in God, Mary’s purity, Jesus Christ’s crucifixion, and even Jesus’ name.
Because what Jesus really wants for Christmas is a piece of candy shaped like the English letter J.
These theories have been proven incorrect by many sources, including Snopes, but I won’t lie. Even if all this were true, I would not like the candy cane.
See, when your birthday is in December – the busiest and most expensive month of all – your parents’ only reasonable choice for the treat you take to school on your big day is an 88-cent box of miniature candy canes. Not cupcakes, not snickerdoodles, not even a box of Christmas-themed Little Debbie snack cakes. Candy canes.
And for a child who doesn’t like peppermint and does like pretty much every other treat known to man and may or may not have a birthday party depending on the whims of Mother Nature and this year’s flu bug, well, a box of candy canes is just a big ol’ birthday slap in the face.
Now, I’m not saying that having a December birthday is all bad. I mean, how many people can say they came home on Christmas Day in a big, red stocking? At least to my parents, I really was the best Christmas gift ever. Second to Jesus, of course. But still – cool story, right?
I’m just saying – if you happen to know someone born in December, save your peppermint sticks of evil. Give them your leftover cookies from last weekend’s cookie exchange, regift that plastic Nativity scene from the office white elephant party, or even slap a tacky gift card in their hand.
Just don’t give them a box of candy canes.
[Confession: While I do believe gift cards are less than optimal ways to express your love and appreciation for a person, I will be giving at least two and possibly three of them this year. So you know.]
