473. That Really Old New Tradition

Mother’s Day shows up, all flowers and hearts and hand-drawn cards, everyone loves Mommy. Father’s Day looks at his watch, waiting impatiently for his turn. After the last cake crumbs are licked off the plates, a small squeaky voice says imploringly, “Why do you people get all the holidays? What about us kids?”

The Husband and I exchange a smile. I remember saying these exact same words to my parents, with the weathered response of “But every day is Kid Day.”

Not so fast. Why not invent a holiday? Why not start a new tradition?

“You’re absolutely right, Tall,” I hear the words come tumbling out of my mouth, “You guys should have your own holiday. Get out the calendar, and let’s pick a day.”

He bolts to the kitchen, and grabs the calendar off the bulletin board, tacks flying, before I have a chance to change my mind. He returns to the table, breathless.

I can read the alphabet letters swirling around in his brain. They spell out: Is this how easy it is? All you have to do to invent a holiday is assign it a square on the calendar?

“Okay,” Queen Virgo starts in methodically because she likes her holidays spread out neatly equidistant throughout the year, “January is too close to Christmas, what about February?”

“No, Valentine’s Day,” offers Short helpfully.

“Right. February is out. March is our anniversary, what about April?”

“No, Easter,” the boys announce in unison.

“May is your birthday,” I squeeze The Husband’s hand, “And also Mother’s Day, June is Father’s Day, Short—your birthday is in July, umm, nothing’s going on in August? Would August work?”

I look around the table. Nodding and grinning.

In my head, I finish the year out: September is my birthday; October? Halloween; November, Thanksgiving; and December, Tall's birthday and of course Christmas.

August it is.

“Then what day in August?” inquires Tall pragmatically.

“Umm … hmm, Sweetie, what do you think?” I turn to The Husband, who I can tell is not quite sure who empowered his lovely wife to go around sanctioning new holidays.

“Oh, I get to have some input now? I think August first. Then it’s easy to remember.”

“Done. From now on, August first is officially Brother’s Day. We will celebrate it every year by doing whatever you boys want. And I can even promise you that you can always skip school on Brother’s Day.”

“Well, let’s go bowling then!” enthuses Short, ignoring/ not getting my “no school” joke.  

“I vote for movies!” says Tall, as if today is already August first.

“I say miniature golf,” adds The Husband.

“Hey, I like that idea,” I laugh, “We’ve never done that before.”

Short interrupts, “And pizza! Pizza for dinner! Don’t forget pizza!”

“I have a great idea,” says Tall, “let’s do ALL those things.”

I’d better start saving my money now. I think Brother’s Day is going to be an expensive holiday.

MOV