Birthday Suit
BIRTHDAY SUIT – September 13, 2024 – Bakersfield, California, USA
Seven-year-old Wesley was exceptionally outgoing for his age. Unlike his little friends and classmates, he did not shy away from adults. He liked talking to strangers. When he smiled so hard his dimples showed under his thick, curly hair, he was hard to resist. Grownups gave him almost anything he was bold enough to request. They were not used to seeing children so willing to speak up and stand out.
When he was almost seven-and-a-half, Wesley discovered a trick that would become his signature move. It happened in a spaghetti restaurant with his parents and eleven-year-old sister, Caroline. Wesley needed the bathroom, and since it was close to their table, he went by himself. On his way back, he discovered six waiters gathered around a happy customer. They handed her an ice cream sundae and loudly sang “Happy Birthday.”
Wesley stopped to watch. Then he joined in the singing. When that was over, he put on a dimple-inducing grin and tugged on one of the servers’ aprons.
“Will you sing to me? It’s my birthday too.”
The server looked down in surprise to see a loveable mop of hair. “It’s your birthday? Are you here with your family?”
“Uh huh,” Wesley said with a nod, pointing toward his family’s table.
“You go sit down and I’ll bring you something special in just a minute.”
Wesley returned to his seat without saying anything to his parents. When the server arrived with five coworkers, they set an ice cream sundae on the table and Wesley dug into it before anyone could tell him to stop. By the time “Happy Birthday” was sung, Wesley’s happy face was covered in chocolate syrup. His parents were so surprised, they did not think to interrupt.
“Did you tell someone it’s your birthday?” Wesley’s mom whispered after the singing servers departed.
“Yes,” he answered proudly, before stuffing another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.
“What gave you that idea?” his dad asked with a chuckle.
“I saw them giving away ice cream.”
Wesley’s mom chuckled, too, before saying, “You shouldn’t do that. If it’s not really your birthday, you’re telling a fib.”
“They looked happy about it. They liked giving me ice cream, even if it’s not my real birthday.”
“Well, sure. But you probably shouldn’t do it again.”
Wesley was left with conflicting signals. He had made his parents laugh and everyone in the restaurant happy. His mom said he “probably shouldn’t,” but that was a weak warning. And the potential rewards were simply too great not to try again. From then on, he was constantly looking for reasons to tell adults it was his birthday. He asked every restaurant waiter for free dessert. He asked the lifeguards at the swimming park if he could skip the line for the waterslides, because it was his birthday. He got free games at arcades and bowling alleys and special privileges whenever a substitute teacher showed up at school.
The birthday trick bothered his parents in the beginning. They grew tired of discussing ethics with Wesley and whether the rewards justified his fibs. Eventually, they pretended it was a harmless part of his personality. Wesley claiming extra birthdays did not seem that different than using a nickname or imitating a superhero. Their nonchalant attitude toward his birthday announcements mystified food servers and cashiers who could not understand why parents were not more excited about their child’s special day.
After triggering so many false celebrations, someone less clever than Wesley might have overlooked the date for his actual eighth birthday. Wesley was sure to mark the calendar hanging next to the refrigerator and update his parents on how many days until the expectedly spectacular event.
The eighth birthday happened to coincide with a big stage show arriving in town. It was designed for kids and when Wesley heard advertisements describing the animal acts, magicians, and comedians, he was convinced the show should be one part of his birthday blowout. His mom bought tickets for a Friday night show at the civic auditorium.
Before the Friday show, Wesley’s older sister, Caroline, attended an earlier performance with one of her friends. Caroline was fine with attending the show a second time, but she did not look forward to all the attention Wesley was sure to get on his actual birthday. Even on his quietest day, her little brother was the loudest person in any room. He sucked in adoring looks and compliments like an attention vacuum. Caroline was barely noticed in the shadow of everyday Wesley and his annoying birthday trick. On his actual birthday, she would surely disappear as the rest of the world held him on a pedestal.
Caroline returned home from watching the Wednesday performance of the stage show to find Wesley showing off his birthday cards sent by friends and relatives. He sent messages to grandparents, aunts and uncles, and distant cousins with his picture and a poem reminding them he was turning eight. As planned, everyone thought he was irresistibly cute and sent back wads of birthday money.
“Look how much I have,” Wesley told his sister. “Two hundred and sixty dollars. Want to count it again with me to be sure?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Mom says I’ll probably get more cards tomorrow.”
Caroline groaned under his breath. Then she had a fun idea. “I should tell you about the show I just saw.”
“You don’t have to tell me. We’re going on Friday.”
“I know. And you should be excited because they do something special for birthdays.”
Wesley’s eyes brightened. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, they ask for everyone celebrating a birthday to go up on stage. Then they get in their birthday suits.”
Wesley scrunched up his nose in confusion. “What’s a birthday suit?”
“It means how you arrived when you were born. You’re naked.”
Wesley cringed in horror. “Everyone was naked?”
“Oh yeah. Everyone with a birthday.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’ll see,” Caroline said with a smirk.
Wesley’s face grew pale and blank. “I’m not going on stage. I won’t tell anyone about my birthday. They won’t make me go up if they don’t know.”
“You better hope it stays secret,” Caroline replied with a satisfied grin.
Friday arrived and Wesley’s family drove to the civic auditorium. His parents were surprised by the quiet and sullen way he sat in the car. As they walked into the theater, Wesley bashfully hid from the ushers. The family found their seats and Wesley did not mention his birthday to any of the nearby adults. He remained still and attentive through the first performances. Like everyone, he laughed and clapped as dogs did funny tricks and stunt riders jumped bikes across raised platforms.
“Okay folks, that’s the first half of our show,” an announcer said as he walked to the middle of the stage. “We’ll have a little intermission for our performers, but while they’re taking a break in back, we’ll still have some fun out here. I’m looking for everyone in the audience who’s celebrating a birthday.”
Caroline leaned over to her brother and whispered, “I told you.”
“Come on, everyone with a birthday today, please stand up!” the announcer continued.
Wesley immediately dropped to the floor and clung to the legs of his chair as if thugs were about to drag him away. At the same time, both his parents stood up and pointed at their son. “Right here, it’s his birthday!” his dad shouted.
“No! It’s not my birthday!” Wesley screamed.
“What in the world?” his dad cried. “You’re always claiming it’s your birthday and when it’s finally the truth, you want to hide?”
Wesley kicked and screamed, “It’s not my birthday!”
His parents finally calmed him down and assured him that he did not have to go on stage. He returned to his chair and watched 25 people, out of an audience of 2000, who were willing to declare it was their birthday. They gathered around the announcer as he said, “We’re going to have a little contest for a big prize.”
The contest turned out to be hopping on one leg. Whoever could do it the longest was the winner. One-leg hopping happened to be one of Wesley’s specialties. He watched with confused disappointment as one by one contestants dropped out.
“Nobody’s naked!” Wesley finally shouted. “When are they getting naked?”
His parents loudly shushed him. “No one’s getting naked,” his mom whispered back in embarrassment.
“Caroline said they had to wear birthday suits.”
Caroline held back a laugh and said, “That’s what happened in the first show.”
Wesley glared and replied, “You’re a liar. You shouldn’t lie about birthdays!”
His parents realized why he had acted so strangely and stifled laughs just like Caroline.
The winning single-leg hopper received two Disneyland tickets. Wesley’s parents remarked that he could easily have hopped for twice as long and won if only he had gone onstage. The remainder of the show was entertaining, but Wesley and his family could not fully enjoy it while thinking about losing the Disneyland prize.
His eighth birthday marked a turning point for Wesley. It may have been the birthday suit incident or simply natural maturity, but his false birthday claims slowed down. He occasionally appealed to an especially friendly waiter, but by the time he turned nine, he was ready to reserve his birthday for one day per year. But when that day arrived, Wesley made sure everyone knew.
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