Leap Year

Leap Year

“It needs to be a big party. Let’s invite the neighborhood. A block party!” I thought aloud to my husband. He listened with half an ear. The other ear was glued to a ball game.

“Yeah, honey, whatever you want.”

“Paul, did you hear me? It’s my once-every-four birthday a year late, It has to be big!”

Paul finally glanced my way, at least he was smiling.

“It’s just a birthday party, Sally. No big deal. Some cake, some brews, some brats, some presents. Invite the gang. It’ll be great. You always do a good job.”

Now this was cold. “Just a birthday party? Paul Smith. Last year I was not able to celebrate my once-every-four-year birthday on February 29, 2020. Remember all the virus crap? I’m a leap year baby. I only get to have a legitimate birthday every four years.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. So we have a party! All is good. Geez Louise.”

I stood, threw a towel at him and stomped out of the living room. I couldn’t believe he didn’t think this party was special. I knew of no one else born on February 29. I always felt cheated that my birthdate only came only once ever four years. The same way people born on holidays felt cheated.

My feelings hurt, I sulked and stewed for a time. Even a few tears were shed, but then I thought, ‘I really am kind of special. I should feel honored.’ I am in the minority with this, so why not feel like the queen that I am? I am going to own this party. It will be epic.

Paul eventually came into the bedroom to check on me. We talked and planned a big bash.

The neighbors were invited. We grilled brats and burgers, we had beer on tap, there was a big birthday cake. But the best surprise of all was a ring Paul had made for me.

It was a platinum ring with four diamonds and two rubies. The four diamonds to signify a leap year and the rubies for our love.

Darn, what a great day that was. February 28, 2021.

W/C 367