RANDOM ACCESS MEMORIES

That Time My Mom Cancelled My Birthday

A tale of taking the cake.

Some of you are already gritting your teeth in in concern. Worry not, I managed to score some cake that day. Photo by Erik Mclean on Unsplash

My mom always had a way of making me feel special. Especially burdensome and especially unwanted. It was late June, morning, and also my birthday! My eleven-year-old brain hadn’t yet unlocked the arcane knowledge that a child’s birthday was an event that can be canceled— I quickly learned otherwise.

Curiously, there were no guests to uninvite, no cake to fail to pick up, and no deposit to forego. My canceled birthday was supposedly a punishment. There is no good reason for spitefully canceling a child’s birthday. And you can’t cancel what you don’t plan.

An exceptional punishment concocted by a narcissist who couldn’t envision how cancelling their child’s birthday would be seen as anything but rational parenting.

My grandma called me to wish me a “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” and asked what the plan was. There was no plan unless the plan was ‘fuck it, no birthday. LMAO!’ Granny was understandably shocked. A few minutes later, my grandma drove to my home to pick me up after calling my aunt. My aunt and my cousin started the hour-and-a-half journey to join us for a last-minute gathering.