As much I love having parties, birthday parties have never been all that big of a deal for me. When I was little I'm sure they were, but I don't really remember. That's not to say that I don't celebrate my birthday - I do, always with a trip to McGarveys - but it's just not a big dramatic occasion. The same is true for the rest of the Waskoms - we recognize birthdays with phone calls and presents and Boston cream pie (except for me - I like angel food cake), but that's about it.
There are a few birthdays out there, though, that for one reason or another, we really did celebrate. The oyster roast at Ben Oaks beach for my dad's 50th. The surprise party at my parent's neighbor's house for my mom's 50th. Dinner and lots and lots of oyster shooters for my brother's 30th. Dinner and way too many drinks and possibly some sibling rivalry down in Lexington for my brother and sister and I for Erin's 21st.
Plus, one random birthday that sort of sums up how the Waskoms hang out. It was my dad's 45th - 18 years ago this Sunday. Instead of going out to dinner, we had the Waskom special - lots of hors d'oeuvres in the living room. We sat around eating cheese and more cheese and my dad opened a bottle of champagne that he'd gotten as a gift. My parents, I guess, were feeling Continental, so they poured me a glass (I was 15).
And that is how it came to be that the very first sip of champagne I ever tasted was Dom Perignon.
Unfortunately, at that time, my palate was, shall we say, unrefined. I didn't really like it much at all and I don't even think I finished the glass. That certainly wouldn't be the case today. What a waste.
This weekend, we'll actually be celebrating in similar style. Everybody's coming up to our house tomorrow afternoon for hors d'oeuvres and cake and drinks. No Dom, this time, though. And that really is a shame.