Born on St. Patrick’s Day.
My friend had a New Year’s baby yesterday. Except for the fact that they’ll have to wait until next year for the tax deduction, they’re pretty pleased: the baby was due on December 26, which would have been closer to Christmas than they liked.
My first two kids were born just before Christmas.
My third kid, and his cousin and my dad, were born during the week of Thanksgiving, although none were actually born on Thanksgiving.
My fourth kid was due on the fourth of July, and was born on Fathers Day.
I have a coworker who’s a Christmas baby, they named him Noel. When he mentioned he had a sister also born on the 25th, I was sure her name was Mary or perhaps Carol, but it was something mundane like Laura.
I have a great-niece born on December 26th, they named her Heather Noelle in honor of the proximity.
Not exactly a holiday but I was born on Mother’s Day, so there was always a double celebration, complete with a cake for me and dinner out for my mother.
After she died it took pretty any fun out of celebrating my birthday for both me and my mother, and Mother’s Day isn’t a big occassion around here, either.
My wife’s father was born on Christmas. He’s 85 now, and I’m wondering what Christmas will be like for her when he’s gone.
My birthday is Dec. 31. Most people would assume that I have the wildest parties ever but it couldn’t be farther from the truth. Hell, I was asleep before midnight the last time.
My daughter’s birthday is the day after Christmas. We’re Jewish but we have Christian relatives so we wind up celebrating that holiday anyway at their house. I usually have a birthday party for her immediate school friends near the date and then another half birthday bar-b-que in June for a much larger circle of friends and family.
So she effectively gets two birthdays which I think is very nice.
Double post.
Oops.