Story 400: Happy Anniversary to Me?

 (Friend 1 is sitting on a chair in the kitchen, staring into empty space, when the phone rings)

Friend 1: (Stares at the ringing phone in confusion for a few moments, then answers it) Heeeyyy???

Friend 2: Hiiiii!!!  Happy Birthday!

Friend 1: It’s not my birthday.

Friend 2: …Since when?

Friend 1: We all only ever get one birthday: the rest are just anniversaries, celebrating the day of our birth.

Friend 2: Oh for crying out – Happy Anniversary, then.

Friend 1: Thanks, but it’s a bummer.

Friend 2: Why?  This year you said you wanted to do, and I quote, “Absolutely Nothing,” and it’s not a dreaded milestone like 150 or something.

Friend 1: I know, but it’s making me look back on my steadily accumulating years of life and realize that, yes, I really have done nothing of concrete value in pretty much any of them.

Friend 2: Would you please go volunteer at the animal shelter or literacy center already so this recurring theme’ll finally be a moot point?

Friend 1: I’m too lazy.

Friend 2: Well then, why even bring it up?

Friend 1: I’m also thinking back on my birthdays as a kid –

Friend 2: Ah-ah, don’t you mean “anniversaries”?

Friend 1: I was ignorant of the true meanings of those words at the time.  Anyway: all those fun, unnecessary celebrations.  Why do we make a big deal of the day we were thrust into this cold, uncaring world?  Is it to make up for the other 364 that are horrific?

Friend 2: They’re not always that bad.

Friend 1: Regardless.  Why do we throw destructive parties or fly out to Las Vegas or eat an entire cake or a combination of all these things on the same day in the Earth’s rotation around the Sun just to mark off another year down the drain?

Friend 2: If you want a serious answer, I don’t have one.

Friend 1: It’s just so odd.  Whose idea was it that everyone should want to highlight the day showing you’re one more year closer to death?

Friend 2: If I go back in time to find out, would you shut up about it then?

Friend 1: Maybe.  I just find the whole birthday business a very strange habit.

Friend 2: Well, think of it as having survived another year instead, if that makes you feel better.

Friend 1: It doesn’t.

Friend 2: Then maybe think all the way back to when you were a blissfully ignorant child and actually enjoyed the day without pondering existential dilemmas.  Go play with your toys or swim in a pool or whatever you did way back when.

Friend 1: Any toys I have left are in a storage bin buried somewhere, and the building’s pool is closed this year due to lack of lifeguards.

Friend 2: Argh, fine – chocolate, then.  You still like chocolate, right?

Friend 1: To an unhealthy degree, yes.

Friend 2: Then go get a decadently rich chocolate dessert and celebrate your anniversary with life by treating your taste buds and neurotransmitters to bean-flavored antioxidants.

Friend 1: That sounds like an excellent idea – I have a few tasties tucked away that’ll fit the bill nicely, so I’ll go get them right now!

Friend 2: Good: go to town toasting your long-term relationship with yourself.

Friend 1: I knew I was friends with you for a reason.

Story 377: You Make a Terrible Relative

 (At a toddler’s birthday party)

Parent: (Greeting Relative in the crowded living room) Thank you so much for coming!

Relative: Sure – listen, I don’t know what the kids are into nowadays so I got the little tyke one of those credit card gift cards they sell at the supermarket.  (Hands over a gift card that has a tiny bow stuck on it) Tell `em “Go to town.”

Parent: (Gingerly takes the card) Oh, thank you – he is only turning 3, and if you weren’t sure what to get you could always call or e-mail me, that’d’ve been fine.

Relative: Yeah, I didn’t think of that.  Guess there’s always next year, right?  (Looks around at family and friends scattered about or romping about the room and furniture) So what’s next; I never know what to do at these things.  Any entertainment stopping by later?

Parent: Please just eat something.

(At a holiday get-together in a house)

Cousin: Oh hi, it’s so nice to see you; how’ve you been?

Relative: Could be worse – you?

Cousin: I’m good.  Remember last time we were all together like this, what was it, somebody’s 90^th birthday party?

Relative: I’m gonna be honest with you: these get-togethers and the people in them are all a blur, so I never remember your name or how exactly we’re related.

Cousin: Oh.  Our parents are cousins so we have the same great-grandparents – I think that makes us first cousins once removed?  Or second cousins?  I never know the difference.

Relative: Sounds too distant for me to care; as long as you make me laugh and aren’t too judgy, we’re good.

Cousin: …OK, I’m going to help set the table for dinner – nice talking to you.  (Heads to the kitchen)

Relative: Same here.  (Spreads across a couch and snacks on crackers and cheese) I’m gonna stay out of the way of setting up or clearing up or cleaning up or any of that – wouldn’t want to presume in someone else’s house.  (Grabs the last napkin) Aaaaand I forgot how we’re related again already.

(At a wedding reception)

Relative: (Sitting with other haphazard family members) Hi.  (Nods in greeting at each person)  How many hours’re left in this thing?

Distant Cousin 1: Well, they just served the pasta and salad so we’ve got quite a bit to go yet.

Distant Cousin 2: You know, technically you can leave whenever you want, heh-heh-heh.

Relative: That is true.  (Fiddles with the flowers on the centerpiece) I already sat through the disappointingly long ceremony; you don’t think anyone’d notice me leaving if I got up and walked out right now?

Distant Cousin 3: I’d notice!

Relative: And what’s it to you?  You’re 5 years old and this is your first wedding – you haven’t experienced enough of the inane horrors of these things to have an opinion yet.  But you will.

Distant Cousin 1: At least stay for the main course, and the happy couple also’ll stop by later to thank us for coming so you should experience that.

Distant Cousin 2: Oh yeah, I see they’re bringing the fancy box with them so I’ll give our gift then.

Relative: What’re you talking about?

Distant Cousin 2: (Holds up an envelope) When they come over, I’ll just drop this in the box.

Relative: What, you got them another “Happy Wedding” card?

(The Distant Cousins stare at Relative)

Distant Cousin 1: It’s the wedding gift.

Relative: I sent them a bunch of wooden spoons ages ago, what more do they want?

Distant Cousin 2: You seriously didn’t bring anything tonight?

Relative: Unless you’ve got a washing machine in there I’m assuming you mean money, and in that case why should I?  I didn’t tell them to take on all this expense or start a blessed life together in unified debt!

Distant Cousin 3: You’re supposed to cover your plate.

Relative: That’s rubbish – they invited me!

Distant Cousin 1: They are family.

Relative: Yeah, family just means you think you can impose; tell them to write me out of the will and we’ll be even – ooh, prime rib’s here!  (Devours entrée and ignores the couple when they arrive)

(At home, Relative’s phone rings)

Relative: (Answers while reading a magazine) What’s up?

Mother: It’s your mother – what is this I hear you’re not going to your niece’s graduation?!

Relative: Oh, should I be?

Mother: Yes!  She’s your niece!

Relative: Just because one of my siblings decided to have a kid doesn’t make their goings-on any more meaningful to my life.

Mother: You –

Relative: Anyway, I thought it was optional, like “Hey, if you have nothing to do on a weekday and want to sit on uncomfortable bleachers in the baking sun for four hours,” that sort of thing.  I planned on cutting work and watching movies that day; it’s marked on my calendar.

Mother: You’d better be there and you’d better bring a gift this time!

Relative: Ugh, what is it with everyone and gifts?!  Besides, she just finished school, we’ve all done it, no big deal.

Mother: She’s getting her doctoral degree!

Relative: Oh.  Really?  Must’ve missed when she started that; good for her.

Mother: You really are clueless – and while we’re at it, would it kill you to visit your grandparents every once in a while?

Relative: …Do you mean literally?

Mother: I can’t believe you come from the same gene pool as the rest of us!  (Hangs up)

Relative: (Tosses away the phone while flipping through the magazine some more; mutters to self) Families sure are exhausting.