You know, I have this game I play. See, for the past three years, my family has forgotten my birthday. I don't remind them myself because I want to see if they'll remember it on their own. Usually I wait until the end of the day to tell them "Hey, forgetting something?", and then they go "oooohhh", and then they feel sad and sorry for me. Last year, I didn't even tell them until the next day. Next time, I'm going to not tell them until the end of the month. In reality, I don't like birthday celebrations, so I'm actually happy they forget.
Yup. My parents and siblings. I dislike birthdays. I don't like the cakes, the presents, the odd apparent artifical nature of it all. I guess. How I describe it doesn't accurately mirror my sentiments, but I can't find the right words, so I'll settle with artificial, which is sorta like how I feel about it. I don't really want a day where people do that kind of stuff to me. When I was a kid it was fun, because everyone around you is happy and you showered with affection and presents, but around my teen years it started feeling off, and eventually I dreaded my birthday. The sentiment is nice, I'll gladly concede that. I prefer a simple "Happy Birthday!" than all of the above, or even just treating me like you would any other day. My birthday is on September 28th. On a funny side note, as a child, I thought my birthday was on September 27th. I'm not sure how I came to believe that. Perhaps it sounded more euphonic as you have the "s" sound on September and 7th. I recall liking to say that date because it sounded neat. It was perhaps on my 8th(?) birthday when I realized it was 28th. I'm not sure how I went that far not knowing my real birthdate, but then again, maybe that just went to show how much birthdays really didn't matter to me.