Birthdays are more than just dates on a calendar - they’re milestones, celebrations of life, and opportunities to show someone how much they mean to us. That's how I approach birthdays for those I love. I always try to make them special. However, I hate my own birthdays. If I could, I would book into a hotel and sleep the entire day. It hasn’t always been this way, though.
My first birthday after Paul and I got married was the most memorable. It was my 22nd birthday. We were poor and didn’t have enough money to go out, but that was okay with me. After work, I went to my in-laws, who lived in the apartment next to us. Paul told me he was working late, and my mother-in-law kept me occupied until he came home. But he didn’t come home. Instead, he phoned her and told her to send me home.
I got suspicious when they followed me with a video camera. When I walked into the apartment, it was dark, and there were bed sheets hanging everywhere, making a makeshift pathway strewn with rose petals. It led first to the dining room, where a candlelit dinner awaited, and then to the bathroom, where a bubble bath was prepared. Paul stood there in a "Superman stance," dressed in a blue tracksuit, with red underwear over it, long red socks, and a red bed sheet tied around his neck!
I'm a huge Superman fan and once told him about a dream I had about Superman in a bat cave. So, he used what he had available, crafted me a bat cave, and dressed as Superman!
For his 22nd birthday, which fell over a weekend, I told him I had to work, but I had other plans. I kidnapped him. I secretly packed our bags into my father's car and asked Paul to come along when my father came to drop me off at work. When we left Mossel Bay, he became suspicious, but I just laughed and refused to tell him where we were going.
In George, we got onto the famous Choo-choo train and took a long scenic ride to Knysna. There, we booked into a charming wooden train lodge and spent the weekend exploring Knysna on foot. On Sunday, my parents fetched us in Knysna, and we ended the trip with lunch at a pizzeria.
Birthdays aren’t just about the presents or the grand gestures. They are about the thought and effort we put into making each other feel loved and cherished. Maybe that’s why I hate my own birthdays - I know no one could ever top what Paul did for me.