Apparently, there's some social norm which, when faced with the requirement to do work on our birthday, stops us from stamping our feet and saying but it's my BIRTHday!
I disapprove. When I'm queen of the world this will be acceptable. As a summer vacation baby, I'm still not quite used to the idea of people having to do things on their birthday. But, people get sick, and yesterday Y spent his birthday standing in the back of an operating room for a 7 hour bypass surgery. I don't know whether this was better or worse than the birthday where I brought him Greek food that made him throw up, but, it's life.
I totally would have stamped my feet though. Just saying.
Luckily, the patient finally got their heart put back in their chest and Y got to leave the sterile field and go out to dinner with his classmates, who could commiserate.
And since one of our friends was shocked that I didn't take a "high-res picture of the candle" on our table(apparently I take too many pictures), here's a picture of another random object.