Birthdays…..suck. At least, my birthdays always suck. Most people celebrate their birthdays with parties, and presents. They dance and they sing; they get completely smashed. Not me. All that stuff that I just mentioned? Yeah. That stuff kinda requires that people actually like you and remember your birthday. The only person who ever seems to remember my birthday is my sister, whose company is…shall we say, not the most desirable company in Scandinavia. She's as violent as me, and even muter than me. So even when she remembers that it's my birthday, it makes absolutely no difference.
I bring this up, because it's my birthday today. I was headed to the spa earlier when out of the blue, Denmark approached me. Apparently, he and his sister couldn't agree what color curtains they wanted to hang in their place and for whatever reason they decided to ask me what I thought. Do I look like Mr. Fashion Sense to you? I must have agreed out of some sense of morbid curiosity. What other reason could there be for agreeing to examine their curtains?
The Denmarks didn't actually want me to help them decide on their drapery. (Ummm…duh?) We got to their apartment and Denmark shoved me roughly in the door first. Just as I was turning to threaten him with my requisite knife, I was distracted by a lot of rapid movement and a lot of sudden shouting.
"Surprise, Finland! Happy Birthday!" They made me drop my vodka. Sister Sweden brought me a new one. She pointed out all of our neighbors and friends, as well as the huge stack of gifts sitting on a table. My sister came over and gestured clumsily with her own knife. The whole surprise party had been her and Sister Sweden's idea. They had worked together to make this birthday really special. Even if it were in my character to speak, I would have been completely speechless.
Norway gave me some kind of weird fish-flavored….something. I honestly don't know what it was. (Though it wasn't as weird as whatever the hell Iceland gave me.) Sweden gave me a new computer. According to him, the one I had tried to kill was desperately out-of-date. My sister had bought me several cases of vodka. From Åland I received a new cooking set. He joked that maybe with new pans I wouldn't have to resort to mämmi anymore. I swung my knife to illustrate that I actually like mämmi. Everyone is else is weird for not even wanting to try it. Sister Sweden whispered that I would be getting my present later that night and I blushed openly. Denmark had paid to reupholster my favorite armchair and America bought me a hat. I have no idea what is up with that man's hat obsession. I find it thoroughly weird.
The number of gifts I got was slightly staggering. Norway, Sweden, and Russia had to help me to get everything home. But at the end of the night, I got to go with Sister Sweden and have raunchy sex. Maybe birthdays aren't all bad, after all.