Charlie's birthday: Keep the date open

Ialways thought there could never be anyone who enjoys a birthday more than I do.

With a whole day seemingly designed with me in mind, I'm as happy as a kid with a cake. I adore a birthday lunch with loved ones, dinner with friends, and an abundant and bountiful presentation of gifts as partygoers sing me the birthday song.

Yet, I've come to realize that it's time to pass the torch, for if there were an award for one who enjoys his birthday ad nauseam, my very own Little Charlie would certainly give me a run for my money.

While I mention my birthday to my friends and remind my mother as need be, Little Charlie likes to keep his big day in the forefront year round.

Take last October, for instance, when he showed up unannounced at the bathroom door and called out as if he were reporting a fire, "Hey, Mom, do you realize that it's only six months until my birthday?"

"Six short months before the big celebration," he later said to his father over a bowl of soup. And then he held up a paper to report his calculations, "Why that's only180 days, 4,320 hours and for those of you familiar with your fractions, one-half of a year."

Then the little guy started making up lists and schedules and party planning agendas that would make the coronation look like a whim.

He crossed days off the calendar, wrote down the remaining hours on the chalkboard, and phoned my mother daily with updates on the party planning.

"You haven't forgotten about my birthday, have you?" he asked of his older brother who is away at college.

"No, Charlie," Vernon replied. "I've programmed a pop-up on my screen saver, set the alarm on my cell phone, and for a reliable backup, I've tied a string around my finger."

If Charlie picked up on his brother's sarcasm, he never let on.

Every event and every appointment was kept track of in Charlie's mind with his birthday as the focal point.

"Mom," he said as he stared at the large family planner that's stuck to the side of the fridge, "I see here that you have an appointment in January. Do you realize that's only three months before my birthday? It also looks as though you will be having your teeth cleaned in February and that's only two months before

my birthday. Dad has an appointment with the cabinet man next month, Lawrence has a basketball tournament, and Huey has confirmation classes. Do you think they'll remember my birthday?"

"He gets this from you," my husband said with disdain as I responded with an eye roll and told him I didn't know what he meant.

Little Charlie made it through the weeks that followed. He weathered the winter, suffered through the Lenten season and although he wondered how they could possibly schedule the Final Four so close to his big day, he endured March Madness with little or no distress.

He worked on party planning, Googled the ultimate birthday presents and fine-tuned his guest list with great intensity.

On April 1, he sat at the kitchen counter and rubbed his forehead with worry. "Mom! Did you call Mrs. Dobesh and ask if Ivan could make my party?"

"I did," I responded, "and she said that she doubts his dance card will be full that weekend."

"I wonder if we should send out savethe date cards."

"Perhaps we could get the TV station to announce it on the evening news," replied his brother mockingly.

Finally, Charlie's day arrived. We loaded the Suburban with as many boys as we could find and commenced to celebrate. They drank pop, ate cake and whooped it up in 12-year-old-boy style.

As I write, the living room floor is scrawled with the remnants of the party, consisting of a few party hats, sleeping boys with chocolate smeared faces, and even the dog looks exhausted.

Although his brothers will surely tease him that the worst day of the year is the day after your birthday, Little Charlie won't be dissuaded.

After all, it's only 8,736 hours, 524,160 minutes or for those of you familiar with your fractions, 364/365th of a year, until the next big event.

Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book "Are We There Yet?" You can reach her at www.loriclinch. com.