And so I turn a year older this Tuesday, a day before Valentine's Day. My mom tells me I was overdue by several days and showed no signs of ever wanting to leave the warmth of her womb. She was hoping I was a boy and was worried I had already grown a moustache inside.
She suffered through several false alarms and hours of labor. Still, I refused to come out. The doctor had to use forceps to pull me out. So that mark on my temple, which eventually grew to cover almost all of my right cheek, my mom blamed on the forceps.
The corny thing about celebrating a birthday near an occasion that the whole country celebrates is getting one gift for 2 occasions. But I don't really mind. I'm not materialistic - I'm actually "tyane."
One gift my mom and dad gave me that I'd always treasure is good genes. Some people actually think I'm still in my early or mid-20's. Duh! I'm turning *%@#$ on Tuesday!!!