Print Story There's a tradition in my family
The "Birthday Dinner". Whoever has a birthday gets to choose anything and everything for dinner on that day. I can't say for certain whether my brother's annual "hot dogs, beets and creamed corn" was just an elaborate troll so evil my mother secretly fed me edible shit an hour earlier or if he truly wanted to keep eating that shit.

Store-brand hot dogs, not the Baltimore-made wienies. Boiled. For an hour or three.



My family doesn't suffer this. I have happily carried on the tradition and it feels really good when my wife asks for a flavoourful piece of ex-cow covered in a sauce made of gallon quantites of moo-juice, chicken-butt products, and some weeds. Even better: Mildly Naughty Puppy asks for yummy food rather than spag-bol & grapes (which, in accordance with the tradition, we would all happily feast on together before enjoying some surreptitious take-away [I did write "tradition" and not "stupidity"]).

We were coming home from the best steakhouse in all of Europe a few hours ago. SRSLY, the best. They're so good that their reputation for having such bad customer service that even Germans complain about it doesn't stop them doing three seatings a night.

A year ago we could almost walk there. Now, well, we have a back yard (a yard at all!), a floor larger than any flat I've ever had in which the toddler can run around and play until she drops. And since I didn't hit the big lottery three times, we're a little bit outside the centre. So going to this restaurant requires reservations a year in advance and travel by U-Bahn, S-Bahn, bus and taxi.

Stuffed with what can only be descrubed as the Best Last Words Of A Pig EVAR!!1!oneoneone (slatheredin tomato-based sauce), we found ourselves on one of the aforementioned modes of transport. Across from the aisle were two women. One was Canadianm the other probably a Bosnian who had lived on the left side of the Atlantic for a few years. They were louder than some drunken Iowan touorists.

I was about to tell them to STFU. In capital letters. North Americans always self-identify not necessarily with heir accents but Every Fucking Time with the volum knob turned up to 82.

But I was in a good mood, travelling home with my chosen fambly, full of ex-pig and ex-cow and bubble-water (club soda; the name is just how we roll). And we'd been extra-super-special-nice to the Puppy because she'd been such a Good Girl so far past her bedtime.

We had been singing a few songs, letting her lead with some German-tastic crap she's picking up in nursery school as well as her epic renditions of Twinkle Twinkle, and had just finished a l-o-n-g round of Old MacDonald. And those wimmens were LOUD. But I'm trying to pass the open windows.

I didn't think it possible to actually shock sugar_spun. I didn't even groan or grunt or quasi-withhold a scream. I turned to these complete strangers across from us and asked them very politely if they might be convinced to join us in a round of Old MacDonald. And despite some initial hesitancy, they did. And the rest of the fucking carriage sat there smiling (a few more joining in) as these wimmens didn't just do this shit song at Let'sGoDrinkO'Clock, and the whole train was fucking silent as we waited for the Puppy to choose an animal. And then random Germans joined in to sing "Bah-bah hier end ze bah-bah zair".

We got home, I helped the Puppy get to bed (Peppa Pig, oink oink oink), fell asleep early and am now up at stupid-o'clock bragging about my awesome kid. My wife is still speechless that I managed to pull this off, and somehow, some way, there's a bit of me smiling at the idea that instead of telling those two cunts to shut the fuck up already because no one gives a shit about the discount you got on those Jimmy Choos, two random, childless strangers sang a children's song to my little girl. And it made her happy. The best present she gave me was a bit of tat but which showed she cares.

I am lucky.

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There's a tradition in my family | 12 comments (12 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback
"...volum knob turned up to 82." by atreides (2.00 / 0) #1 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 01:18:11 AM EST
HEY!!! I resemble that remark!

He sails from world to world in a flying tomb, serving gods who eat hope.

I thought that by anonimouse (4.00 / 1) #3 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 02:12:48 AM EST
..volume knobs only went up to 11, and even then only for special rock bands.


Girls come and go but a mortgage is for 25 years -- JtL
[ Parent ]
I just figured by kwsNI (4.00 / 2) #8 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 10:23:50 AM EST
it was some sort of Metric conversion.

[ Parent ]
Check your email. by sugar spun (4.00 / 1) #2 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 01:25:05 AM EST
And your spelling.

Happy birthday, I hope it was what you wanted.


We did something similar in my family. by toxicfur (4.00 / 1) #4 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 07:26:43 AM EST
Not being a family of dirty trools, we didn't take advantage of it, though - we were allowed to pick any restaurant (within reason, considering we didn't have a lot of money and had to feed 6 people) for our birthdays. Since we didn't go out to eat much, it was a pretty big deal. My favorite year was, I think, when my brother P and I decided to have a joint birthday (our birthdays are 3 days apart) and go to the Japanese hibachi steakhouse. Not even close to actual Japanese food, but it was tasty and the most exotic place we'd ever been.

I'm glad you had a good birthday! Here's to many more.
--
The amount of suck that you can put up with can be mind-boggling, but it only really hits you when it then ceases to suck. -- Kellnerin

Rarely did we do restaurants by BadDoggie (4.00 / 1) #5 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 07:34:08 AM EST
My meal was always "London Broil", 18-cheese-stuffed zucchini (maybe four actual cheeses used), and 'whatever else you think everyone might want but I won't need because I'll be busy OD'ing on 12 pounds of marinated, grilled flank steak'."

Until I was 13 and sent off to cooking school. Then I had to do the cooking.

woof.

Jesus Christ you're a tool -- Dr Thrustgood

[ Parent ]
First of all by yankeehack (2.00 / 0) #6 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 08:34:00 AM EST
Happy Birthday.

Secondly, while LO is a beautiful young lady now, she was cute when she was little. I mean, the type of cute that could solve world peace if she entered into a room kind of cute. I've seen pictures of mildly naughty puppy and...she's that cute.

It always amazed me that when we'd be out, at a restaurant, in a plane, at a store, people (you name it, old ladies, businessmen, hard looking people...) would stop and want to interact with her. When she was a baby, I'd have to watch it if I turned my back because people would come up to her in the shopping cart.

Thirdly, you just gave me a good memory of when I was growing up. We would do the have what you want for dinner tradition for birthdays too. But since my birthday is in the summer, it would traditionally be something outside or on the grill and it would be at our beach house in Maryland, which to a preteen girl stunk because all of my other friends were back home in NJ. One summer, I had to be turning 10, when I was dressing as a tomboy (baseball hat, 80s boy running shorts), I had a really good day. Birthday party with the neighborhood kids, my best friend (who was a boy) gave me a trendy chain necklace that I would have never gotten otherwise and before everyone else had them and that night, because my grandmother was with us, we got to go into the closest town and I was allowed to choose the restaurant. We went to a fancy (to me) seafood restaurant on the water, a place where the crabbermen would haul their catches to the dock. That was a good birthday.

Dammit, now I want to go an scan those old photos from that birthday.
"...she dares to indulge in the secret sport. You can't be a MILF with the F, at least in part because the M is predicated upon it."-CBB

people do that with DK by StackyMcRacky (4.00 / 1) #12 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 08:38:57 PM EST
mostly, everybody - and I mean EVERYbody, even punk-ass teenagers, every shade of skin, EVERY-body - has to stop and comment on her eyes.  Old ladies say "She is an absolutely beautiful child!" but everybody else comments on the eyes.

It really weirds me out.  But I find it amusing, because sometimes I want to tell people she's my adopted daughter because, as my sister says, there is not one drop of me in that child.

[ Parent ]
froehes gebuertstag by ammoniacal (4.00 / 8) #7 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 08:59:37 AM EST

"To this day that was the most bullshit caesar salad I have every experienced..." - triggerfinger

Cows With Guns. n/t by Captain Tenille (4.00 / 6) #9 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 12:18:02 PM EST
 

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/* You are not expected to understand this. */


[ Parent ]
MY VOLUME IS NOT AT 82! by wiredog (2.00 / 0) #10 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 02:13:42 PM EST
EIGHTY, TOPS!

Earth First!
(We can strip mine the rest later.)

Excellent! by Breaker (4.00 / 1) #11 Fri Jun 01, 2012 at 03:53:24 PM EST
Singing on the buses makes everyone happier.  Add in a child that is cute as a button such as MNP and everyone goes home with a smile on their faces.

I used to get the tube carriages singing on the way home from an ex girlfriends sometimes.  Usually after 11pm, everyone's had a beer, most are happy some are not.  Defused a potential couple of incidents there, largely due to the WTF factor - 30 drunken monkeys singing Queen and Abba badly but with feeling.  Good times.

Happy birthday BD, hope your health is restored soonest.


There's a tradition in my family | 12 comments (12 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback