The barbecue party
This afternoon I had to go pick up my new sail awnings for terrace Longueuiland then pass by my brother. He was having a barbecue party by the pool with the kids and some other family members.
When he invited me to pass by, grab a beer with him and have some chicken wings, he neglected to mention that it was his youngest son birthday party. Me, the not-so-cool-uncle, I never paid attention to the dates. I only know my birthday or my brother’s because we are born on the same day even though we are three years apart.
Yes, when we were kids, that was a thing for me because I did not like having a single cake for both of us. I did not like having most of his friends and him bossing me around even on my birthday. But those are things of the past. I stopped celebrating birthdays when I was around eleven years old.
When I got to my brother’s house, the moment I stepped in and I saw the happy birthday balloons for little Joshua, I felt like an idiot. That’s because I ended up in there without a present for my little buddy boy. I looked around for my brother wishing to inquire why he did not bother to remind me it was a birthday party and not a barbecue party, as he had mentioned, but he was busy on the patio.
I took out my wallet and checked to see how much cash I had on me. Luckily I had more than two hundred dollars. I took out four bills of fifties from my wallet and put them in my right pocket. A few moments later, the birthday boy came and gave me a hug. I picked him up into my arms and I asked him what did he wished for his birthday? His answer came promptly: “Nintendo!”. I took out the money and gave it to him, saying that I came straight from work and I had no time to go shopping. He raised an eyebrow and looked the bills that I was trying to put in his jeans’ pocket.
He asked me to wait for a second and left the room only to return with his piggy bank into his small little hands. He handed it to me saying that it was safer to place the money inside than into his pockets. He did have a point!