My family is odd.

We had my birthday dinner today at an extremely garlic-y restaurant. This was not the weird part; it’s the delicious part. I had an amazing garlic butter steak and potato slices cooked with garlic and caramelized onion. (Yum!) We passed on the garlic ice cream with strawberry sauce this time.

No, the weird part was my birthday gift from my parents, which consisted of:

1) Portraits of the Bison: An Illustrated Guide to Bison Society (in 1997 I volunteered for the National Park Buffalo Round-up, which I guess my parents remembered and thought I really liked bison or something. While it was interesting and at times terrifying, and baby buffalo are really cute, I don’t really consider myself to be a “bison enthusiast” as described on the back of the book.) I honestly didn't know what to say.

2) A small stuffed bear dressed as a postal delivery person, with receipt, that was actually intended for my sister to give to my grandmother for Christmas. (My mom forgot that it was in the bag)

3) A jar of crabapple jelly (I love crabapple jelly and it’s hard to find the good stuff, while it was an unusual birthday gift, I definitely appreciated it).

4) A Sears official Christmas CD, $1 with purchase. It included a medley (does it count as a medley if there are only two songs) of my two most hated Christmas carols: “Do You Hear What I Hear?” and “The Little Drummer Boy”. At least Celine Dion and Mariah Carrey weren’t on the CD.

What I don’t get is why my mom asks me for a birthday and Christmas list every year and then proceeds to completely ignore it and get me very odd things, like the above. Not that I’m not grateful to be getting something for my birthday and celebrating it with my family, but why bother with the list?

On the plus side, they also gave me cash, which I can later use toward the items on my list (like TV on DVD) or, if I’m behaving myself, toward paying off some of our debt.

Sigh. Happy Birthday to me.