"Do you remember the day you were born?" My father was fond of asking me every year. He also long maintained ~ with me at least ~ that I was prematurely born, but I get ahead of myself.
I was born on New Year's Eve. But it was the events that preceded the actual time of birth that my Dad was constantly asking if I remembered. Over the years, eventually, since he told the tale so frequently, it was easy able to say yes, I did remember the day I was born. It was his version, but, what the hey... who's looking too closely?
Anyway... My parents were at my grandparents house, getting ready for a New Year's Eve party. My Grandmother [we called her "Happy Day"] had washed and waxed the kitchen floor earlier and placed old newspapers all over the floor to keep dirt and grime from outdoors off the tile.
My dad decided to play with a cake mom had made, "I'm gonna eat this all myself" grabbed it off the table and got mom and began running about the house - the women chasing after him in pursuit.
It wasn't a big house, kind of like the one here [only in winter, with snow on the ground] and so my dad ran out the back door into the yard, standing there in his shirtsleeves, waiting for them to follow.
It being pretty cold out, he went back in, and found my mom splay-legged on the floor, having slipped and fallen on the newly waxed, news-papered floor. Happy Day was standing over her, exclaiming "Oh my God! Her water's broke!" and it was off to the hospital, where, an hour and 14 minutes before midnight, I provided my dad a tax deduction for the year.
As for the other part of the story, I was born earlier than expected... but we're talking a number of days not, as Dad insinuated, that I was, according to the marriage date, a miraculously born - and surviving - 5 month old pre-me; a seven pound, three ounce pre-me at that [that's about 3.2 kg].
By the time he got around to telling me otherwise, I had already figured out the math.
Dad's gone now. Has been for over a decade. I'd love to have him here now, to correct any errors in the tale telling. Happy birthday to me, a day late. I do remember the day I was born though I don't remember if Dad got to eat the cake.