So the first 40+ messages that came through Facebook/Whatapps/SMS all beat my husband to wishing me Happy Birthday at the stroke of midnight as I settled into deep slumber. Part of me actually thinks he might have forgotten it was my birthday – perhaps due to the impending stress of fatherhood, coupled with work and upcoming exam stress. He was still busy cramming to study his daily quota of 50 pages just before I hit the sheets at 11.45pm.
But somehow, it didn’t matter as much as it might have did before. For past years, I remember the Bo either calling me at midnight of 2nd Feb to sing a birthday song (when we were still dating) or surprising me with a birthday cake (once we got married); and it would really melt my heart each time regardless how repeated a gesture it was. I’m old-fashioned in that way.
I wasn’t expecting him to pull up anything fancy this year, seeing how stress was occupying his mind & face…but someone new & amazing took over in giving me a hearty birthday wish.
It was the little chungkin. He was bouncing around my tummy before giving me a nudge, probably to wish me a Happy Birthday. And that absolutely took the icing on the cake.