The idea for this came to me when I was having one of those mornings when nothing that I needed was where I left it the day before. The little goblins of the night who constantly frolic around whilst I am in the arms of Morpheus are mischievous little critters and take a delight in rearranging everything. This brings into sharp focus the fact that there are forces at work which we really cannot explain - including the significance of the day and time when we arrive on this planet.
It was relatively early in my childhood that I became aware of the 12th of March as being a very special day. It was an occasion for unbridled celebration. I would receive cards and gifts from members of my immediate family special treats like extra sugar on my Yorkshire pudding and a cake with lighted candles which I had to blow out after making a silent wish that Adolph Hitler would be attacked and eaten by his dog.
It was a day where I was placed center stage and could bask in the glory of being able to get away with whatever my favorite mischief happened to be at that time. The thought did cross my mind that since my long-suffering parents were the ones responsible for my existence and had so far managed to clothe and feed me, they should be the ones to reap whatever rewards were floating around, certainly not me, but it was my birthday, so who was I to turn down all the perks? Tomorrow it would be someone else's turn.
It further dawned on me that this went on for all three hundred and sixty five days of the year. It is always someone’s birthday. Sometimes several people at the same time. So Christmas comes everyday. Wow what a treat!