My birthday hasn’t been a big deal to me since about 7th grade. Or, as we say in Canada, grade 7. I haven’t had a birthday party since then, other than dinner with my family, because that’s the way I like it. I don’t want a party, I don’t want people coming up to me wishing me a happy birthday, I don’t want a big deal to be made at all. Just leave the presents on the porch.
I don’t like opening them in front of people because I can never get the right “surprised face”. I always look like I just opened a box full of dead flies but I’m trying to be nice about it because these flies were hand-picked especially for me and are VERY SPECIAL and also cost a lot of money, so I should be appreciative of the effort and thought. But it’s a box of dead flies, so that face is hard to camouflage. But it’s never an ACTUAL box of dead flies; all my gifts are wonderful and I love them and they’re exactly perfect. That’s just how my face looks. Like I’m looking into a box of special dead present flies.