Essay About My Birthday

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Every birthday is supposed to be special and good right? Wrong. Definitely special, but not in a good way. Do you ever have an experience that ruins something that you had cherished for so long? There have been lots of times in my life that I have been confronted with situations that changed the way I viewed myself and others, there is one distinct time that I remember abruptly changing my view, and finally learning some very important messages. On the particular day that my eyes were opened, my birthday, I had one of the most confusing, irritating, frustrating days of my life. A day I will remember for as long as I live. I woke up to breakfast in bed, a family tradition. On any special day in my family, the holiday “celebrity” gets woken up to “Happy Birthday” of some rendition based on if it is mothers day, fathers day, or really truly a birthday. These special days carry a chain of traditions, first with the song, second with breakfast in bed, and third with a game of hot and cold while trying to find presents hidden all over the house. When my mom had asked me earlier that week what I wanted for my birthday breakfast I said the obvious, the breakfast that everyone in my family asks for, cinnamon rolls. So skip ahead to the next morning when I had just woken up was presented with a plate of pancakes and banana slices with strawberries arranged in a smiley face on my the pancakes. Oh. I guess maybe mom didn’t hear me when I said I wanted cinnamon rolls, but how could

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