Waking up in the morning is hard enough as it is (what with sunshine forcing its way through my too light coloured curtains and alarm clocks blaring angrily), let alone waking up whenever the bed is so warm and comfy.
Oh, that and when it's your birthday and you're not expecting anyone to remember it.

I mean really people. I've been independent for 144 years now. I've been in wars. I've made trade agreements. I've held the Olympics (multiple times, in fact). I've existed.

But alas, year after year, I'm forgotten about. I mean, the first ten years were fine. They all remembered the first year, it was an insane party; lots of drinking and hockey and screwing around. Then slowly, less and less people started showing up until it was just Alfred and I. He and I celebrated my eleventh birthday together, before even he forgot.

(Though, every so often he'll show up ten days later saying he had forgotten and how sorry he was. I always accepted his apology.)

(Unlike England and France. I never accepted their apologies because for them, it was never 'I'm sorry. I forgot your birthday' it was 'I had a sudden meeting' or 'since I haven't heard from you, I assumed my present got lost in the mail so I figured I'd pay you a visit.' At least Al had the courage to admit he had forgotten about me.)

I digress. No use spending today in bed doing nothing. Kumakitichi needed feeding and, since my stomach was growling, I supposed I should join him for breakfast.

I ended up making myself some strawberry and chocolate chip pancakes. I made Kumatimone some salmon and tuna ones; he loved those. After they were placed in his dish, I gave him a call.

"Kumajik! Breakfast!"

"...who...?"

"I'm Canada, Kumajik! I feed you!"

"...kay..." he waddled over to his dish, stuffing his muzzle into the bowl of warm pancakes before, "Yumm. Thanks...Dacana?"

"At least you got the letters right..."

Breakfast was a quiet affair, as it always was. Kuma and I never really talked to each other during meal times. He never seemed to want to hold a conversation with me anyway; or at least not one where he had to remember my name.

I honestly didn't have anything planned for the day; I never do. I'm doomed to live every birthday alone and sad.
Padding to my office after I'd cleaned up breakfast, I had my mind set on doing work, but upon entering the room, I caught sight of a box on my desk with a big white bow on top. There was a card attached, which I hastily read.

Dear Matthew,
I hope this finds you well. Please enjoy a day free of paperwork. Yes. I did send the CSIS into your house and had them steal all of your work. No, I don't care if you care. Have a happy birthday.
Harper

That bastard. That terrible, horrid, lovely, likable bastard. How dare he do something so nice! He's completely screwed up my plan and left me a box filled with bottles of wine. Really nice wine. Really nice French wine. From France.

Despite what you may be thinking, I didn't actually drink it. No, I'd rather not get drunk alone on my birthday; there's pitiful, and then there's just plain sad. I'd rather be the former than the later, thankyouverymuch.

So I went about doing the next best thing to drinking really nice French wine from France; I baked myself a cake. Which, under normal circumstances wouldn't have been a bad thing, but since I was baking my own birthday cake that I would be eating alone...yeah. It was still kind of sad.

I left it in the oven to bake and turned on the television in my living room when my doorbell rang. Typically, I'm not scared of my doorbell; it's just a two note ring, you're normal 'ding dong'. Today, however, I was very scared of my doorbell. I wasn't expecting it to ring, so when the sound echoed from the front door all the way to my seat and back, it frightened me. I still went to answer it, but whatever.

And who should be standing in the doorway than someone who shouldn't even exist. Not that I'm one to talk; I'm usually forgotten about to the point that sometimes I think I don't even exist... Anyway.

"Gil...bert? What are you doing here?"

"Umm. It's July first, right? I didn't screw up the date, right? What am I talking about; the Awesome Me doesn't screw up dates. It's totally July first, meaning Canada Day! ...right?"

I was flabbergasted. I was stunned. I was shocked. I was...about to burn down my house. "The cake!" Maybe leaving my door open so that Gilbert could mosey into my home wasn't the best decision of my life, but given the choice of that or stopping my cake from succeeding in taking my house into its fiery clutches, I'd obviously have to pick the second option. So it was to no surprise that, upon leaving the burnt pasty in the kitchen to cool so I could toss it later, I found Gilbert relaxing on my chesterfield, messing with a red bow that was tied around a white box. "Gilbert?"

"I closed the door on my way in, don't worry about it. Gilbird and I got you the awesomest birthday present in the world! Happy 144th, Matthew!" He shoved the box into my hands and beamed as I sat down beside him and tentatively started unwrapping it.

"Eh, Gilbert? Did you wrap this yourself?"

"Yeah, why?"

"No reason. Just wondering." Actually, there was a reason. The present was a picture of wrapping perfection. Stark white paper with a thick, silky, red ribbon wrapped around it one way and three thin ribbons wrapped the other direction. It was topped with a puffy hand-made red bow (how could I tell? It was a little lop-sided) with a smattering of maple leaf stickers clustered under it before they were scattered around one side of the present, making them appear to be falling down the side of the box. Knowing Gilbert the way I do, it was definitely surprising to see something so beautiful come from him. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet! You haven't even opened it! Hurry up! You shouldn't make Awesome wait!"

I laughed. "Fine, Gilbert. Fine." I stopped trying to save the paper (really, who else would want a present wrapped in this particular paper?) and just ripped it off with the ribbons and bow. "Oh wow Gilbert! A box; you got me a little brown box!"

It was his turn to laugh. "I know boxes are cool and all, but you gotta open it! Come on!"

I worked on the tape that was keeping the box closed for a while, drawing it out as long as I could. It wasn't often I got presents, let alone birthday presents, so I wanted to make it last. Five minutes later, there was no more delaying the inevitable (plus, Gilbert looked like he was about to rip the box from my hands and open it more me) and I popped open the gift.

"Oh wow, Gilbert."

"Do you like it?"

He sounded so happy. So hopeful. So...un-Gilbertlike. "Yeah, Gil. I love it." I pulled out the little stuffed ball of yellow fluff and turned it around in my hands for a few seconds before the giver stole it from my grasp.

"It's a little stuffed Gilbird, see? It even makes sound effects!" To demonstrate, Gilbert squeezed the toy lightly between his fingers.

"Cheep. Cheep. Cheep."

"See! Isn't it the awesomest thing you've ever seen ever!"

"Aside from you?"

"That's an unspoken statement."

"Ahh, yes. Of course. How could I forget?" I took the toy back and sighed, shaking my head. "Yeah, Gilbert. Aside from you, this is pretty much the awesomest thing I've ever seen ever."

"Good! Now how abou—is that wine?" He'd caught sight of my present from Harper that I had sat on my coffee table.

"Yeah. French wine."

"From France?"

"Yupp."

"Cool. Let's get drunk!"

I thought about it for a bit. I really did; no joke. I weighed both options fully and completely in my mind. Get drunk with Gilbert; have a fun, albeit crazy time neither of us will remember, or tell him no and have him drink it all by himself anyway.

I swear I'm going to wake up with the worst hang over ever.


So, I started writing this back in December with every intention of finishing it by the time the first rolled around. Unfortunately, I've been swamped with so much stuff to do and—ok, I just forgot. But it's the thought that counts right? Right?

Well, Happy Canada Day, everyone! I may not live in the Great White North, nor have I ever, but that doesn't mean I'm not gonna go outside tonight and play with red and white sparklers while singing 'O Canada'!

Also; I really don't own Hetalia. Or a miniature Gilbird that makes noises. Though, I do wish I had both of them…