On my 7th b-day, I got a pair of old shoes as a present from my parents, they happened to be visiting with the other family at my party, so they din't see that I was disappointed. The "gift" upset me so much, that I just tossed them into my closet without second thought. Weeks later, I discovered that they had actually hidden $20 dollars inside those nasty sneakers, when my mom asked me what I did with my money. I felt really embarrassed.

hee hee hee

ok so me and my dad went to watch a movie on my birth day and on our way home we got i pizza. of course, i thought that was all i was going to get so i was vary surprised when i walked in to the house to find a Tardis from doctor who siting in the middle of the living room. i screamed, went back outside, and then came back inside a few minutes later. i then proceded to knock on the tardis to see if the doctor would come out but instead of the Doctor, a little gray hound puppy came out. i was laughing my bum off when i realized it was an ordinary police box that my dad had made and the puppy was my moms idea. needless to say, the puppys name is now the doctor XD

So the day started out great. No, its not going to be one of those 'boo-hoo I woke up with the sun shining and then my dog died stories. Nah, what happened to me, happened on my birthday. I love birthdays, generally. Nothing like waking up, knowing youre one year closer to death!
But I dont enjoy waking up to a room full of penguins.
Yes, penguins. Loud, smelly, stupid, penguins. Sure in those movies they look all adorable but they dont show the truth. The real truth of waking up with a penguin on your chest staring at you screaming NOOT NOOT.
Leave me be.
So I shoved the penguin off and exited my bedroom in a calm and orderly fashion- hahaha not really I ran out of there screaming and bumped into a goldfish.
Dun dun dun.
Im sure you have several questions. How was a goldfish out of water? Why was it bigger than I was? And why was a goldfish in my house when I know I have no goldfish?!
Trust me, I have no clue.
But the goldfish looked like it wanted a hug. If it wanted a hug, it better get one from someone else because I aint getting near that thing. So I ran (still screaming, mind you), to the kitchen.
Guess what was in the kitchen?
A darn popsicle stick.
Now I dont know how a popsicle stick grew in size, and was making pancakes. Yes, it was making pancakes, the special kind with whipped cream and blueberries. It looked at me, well it didnt really look it just kind of turned to me wearing its Kiss the Cook apron. Hey, hey, guess what I did?
I screamed some more!
So I exit running and screaming to the outside where everything is upside down. Im not even joking everything was upside down. I was walking on the sky, the green grass hanging over me.
Im done! I screamed, running back inside. I ran past the popsicle stick and past the goldfish. I entered my room and shoved the penguins out the window. Squeaking their distressed NOOTs they fell onto the sky and I burrowed into the blankets.
Breathing quickly I waited, and waited. I heard nothing, so I cautiously peeked out.
I tiptoed to the door, and opened it hesitantly. No goldfish.
I crept down the stairs. No popsicle stick. Instead my family members were gathered around the kitchen table with pancakes and actual cakes.
What happened to the popsicle stick? I asked them, over their loud off-key lamenting of happy birthday.
What are you talking about sweetheart? my mother asked, cutting a slice of cake for me.
There was never anything like that. my dad gave me a suspicious smile, but I dismissed it. Whatever. As long as they gave me fantastic presents to make up for it.
Ugh, fine, I muttered, glaring at the pair of my parents. I mustve been dreaming.

Unbeknownst to the narrator, a pile of water was outside, the sound of a laughing popsicle stick coming from the closet.

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Happy Birthday, Sierra!

As far as I can tell from your instructions, I still have twelve hours in which to submit a wacky birthday story, but I'm not 100% sure. If I'm wrong, apologies.

Anyhow, here is a story about my little cousin's 6-month "birthday." The title is "Oops."

Of course, everybody has only one actual birth day. That's the day upon which each person was actually born. Mothers celebrate those birth days!

However, most people refer to the anniversary of their birth day as their "birthday," and they celebrate it. In fact, we humans like celebrating birthday anniversaries so much we'll even celebrate non-anniversary birthdays, especially those of very young people. (Evidently nine is not young enough. On one particular September 9th, I tried convincing everyone that it was my right to celebrate my "Ninth Half-Birthday." This did not work.) People routinely celebrate an infant's "one-month 'birthday'," "three-month 'birthday'," etc.

When my cousin Charlotte's baby Violet was born, Charlotte was actually able to take a year's leave of absence from her job (talk about lucky!). When I asked her why she still went to lunch at the local diner, precisely at one-fifteen p.m., she said it was nice to eat a meal she didn't have to fix, plus it let her keep in touch with her co-workers, who ate lunch at the same diner at precisely one-fifteen.

Baby Violet, of course, was routinely handed around the table to be admired, like a Neiman-Marcus package. However, upon the occasion of Violet's six-month "birthday," the luncheon ran long past one-forty-five, to allow for cupcakes with candles, the giving of baby gifts that would be outgrown in another month, and photos with the guest of honor. I assume Charlotte's boss was okay with this extended lunch, since he was there, too.

Then an unexpected guest showed up--Charlotte's father, my uncle Blake. He clomped into the diner for his usual 2 pm coffee-and-pie. Of course he spotted his first-and-only grandchild, and of course he changed course and plopped into the middle of the gathering. He intercepted Violet as she was being handed around, to the annoyance of the next scheduled Violet-holder (who retaliated by eating Uncle Blake's pie, but I don't think he noticed).

In the midst of all this oo-ing and coo-ing over little Violet (her tiny fingernails, her two teeth, her strong grip on anything she shouldn't have), somebody commented on how she'd grown so much hair since birth. She'd been born bald, you see, but now had a curly crop of red-golden hair. Several people, including Charlotte, thought the color was a bit odd, since both Charlotte and her spouse Brandon had brown hair, brown so dark it was almost black.

Uncle Blake, who was pretending to steal Violet's nose, looked up and announced there was nothing odd about it at all. He reminded Charlotte, "Livvy has auburn hair."

"Livvy," of course, was my Aunt Olivia, Uncle Blake's wife and Charlotte's mother, and she did in fact have intensely auburn hair. "Oh," said several people, nodding. That seemed to make sense; Violet got her red hair from her grandmother. It got quiet, however, when everyone noticed Charlotte was just gaping at her father.

Uncle Blake finally noticed, too, and looked inquiringly at Charlotte, who said (while strangling a laugh), "Daddy . . . that wouldn't make any difference. I'm adopted, remember?"

I think Uncle Blake blushed more at that moment than he ever had before during his entire life!

(Names have been changed to protect me.)

Game 2 is currently running^^ winners for game 1 annouced soon!