I have some more evidence that I didn't always hate birthdays. My sisters and I all have birthdays within two weeks of each other. That in and of itself is not a problem. My mother reminded me recently, however, that what was a problem - at least for me - was that Sister #1 celebrated her birthday a week before mine. I was the oldest, so by childhood logic my birthday should come first. That doesn't make much sense now, and there's a decent argument to be made that it shouldn't have made sense in 1980 either.
But here's the thing: today is the last of three August birthdays (coincidentally, their spacing is off mine and my sisters' by only one day) and for the third straight year Scottie gets short shrift just because he falls last in the batting order. I always struggle to come up with something to say by the time we get to this one. And even now I've spent the whole birthday post blabbing about myself. I am such a deadbeat uncle. Here's wishing you the best today anyway, Scottie! Have a great fourth birthday!