When I was young, my birthdays were never the biggest bashes. I hated the fact that it was always around the Commencement Exercise of our school or Holy Week. Because of this, I was never able to celebrate in class. All that I had to settle for was a small (sometimes, meatless!) birthday.
My mom was never the big spender, seems like the apple never falls far from the tree. She bought big blank poster-size paper (cartolina) and insisted on making my birthday invitation from scratch. She would cut out ice cream pictures from gift-wrapping paper and paste these on the invitation and I would sign my name on the bottom.
Guests? They were often my cousins, neighbors from upstairs (MM and Peachy Cruz), kids of her friends (oftentimes, kids of co-workers from the bank).
Oh, boy. My favorite part? Gift-opening! I was always notorious for ripping wrappers apart before you can say "hey." The best gift I remember getting was this cool (well, back then!) pink pencil case that opens mini drawers with a push of the button. Everyone wanted to play with it when June came. I was the coolest kid in class!
