my favourite time of the year is birthday. write a essay
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This was my favorite day of the year; it was a day where being a selfish child was allowed without getting reprimanded by adults. This day is a birthday, my birthday.
Every year, I eagerly waited for this special day to occur, anticipating the delicious chocolate chip cookie cake, the latest toys I might receive, and the looks on my family’s faces as their smiles were illuminated by my happiness. I never appreciated times like those, as much as I should have, because one day it all changed. The date was June 3, 2010, my eighth birthday. I woke up to the sound of my grandparents singing happy birthday to me, and at that moment, I knew. I lept out of bed and raced out of my room. On the floor, outside the door was a note from my mom. It said, “Hi sweetie, happy birthday! I’m sorry I cannot be here when you wake up on your special day, but I am at the hospital having the baby. See you later! I love you. Love, Mommy.”
I immediately burst into tears. Knowing that I would have to share my favorite day of the year with a baby, who probably needed more attention than me, tampered with my eight year old mind. I started to question if people would remember it was my birthday too, or if I would still be able to pick my favorite restaurant to go to for dinner, or if we could have my favorite chocolate chip cookie cake. I decided to refrain from lingering in my thoughts, and instead, got myself ready to conquer this “terrible” day, and went downstairs. I hung out with my sister for a while, and opened a couple of presents, which kept me content. Subsequently, my grandpa left for work, while my grandma took my sister and I to Starbucks. I was calm and collected until my thoughts caught up to me. I realized I will never have my own birthday again. It will always be shared, and I was not happy. I knew, that this day would now be my least favorite day of the year.
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This was my favorite day of the year; it was a day where being a selfish child was allowed without getting reprimanded by adults. This day is a birthday, my birthday.
Every year, I eagerly waited for this special day to occur, anticipating the delicious chocolate chip cookie cake, the latest toys I might receive, and the looks on my family’s faces as their smiles were illuminated by my happiness. I never appreciated times like those, as much as I should have, because one day it all changed. The date was June 3, 2010, my eighth birthday. I woke up to the sound of my grandparents singing happy birthday to me, and at that moment, I knew. I lept out of bed and raced out of my room. On the floor, outside the door was a note from my mom. It said, “Hi sweetie, happy birthday! I’m sorry I cannot be here when you wake up on your special day, but I am at the hospital having the baby. See you later! I love you. Love, Mommy.”
I immediately burst into tears. Knowing that I would have to share my favorite day of the year with a baby, who probably needed more attention than me, tampered with my eight year old mind. I started to question if people would remember it was my birthday too, or if I would still be able to pick my favorite restaurant to go to for dinner, or if we could have my favorite chocolate chip cookie cake. I decided to refrain from lingering in my thoughts, and instead, got myself ready to conquer this “terrible” day, and went downstairs. I hung out with my sister for a while, and opened a couple of presents, which kept me content. Subsequently, my grandpa left for work, while my grandma took my sister and I to Starbucks. I was calm and collected until my thoughts caught up to me. I realized I will never have my own birthday again. It will always be shared, and I was not happy. I knew, that this day would now be my least favorite day of the year.
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