Today marks a very sad day in my life. I no longer have a birthday. Officially, I turn 37 today, but none of that really matters any more. My daughter turns 5 later this week and will have her birthday party today.

Instead of basking in the limelight, I will carry around goodie bags, pass out pizza and make sure no one gets lost in the ball pit.

Happy birthday to me.

I have generally been very nonchalant about my birthday. I don’t like a lot of fuss. I want a little fuss, but I don’t think I will even hat.

For all these years, I have resisted making my birthday all about me. Now that it isn’t about me, I regret it.

In the past, all I really wanted was for Maria to cook a special dinner for me. I have a lot of stuff and have grown up enough to realize that I don’t really need much more.

Well, I do, but my wife would never spring for a large-screen plasma TV for me. Somehow, I will manage.

I maintained that stance this year. I don’t want anything except to have a special day with the people I love, I told Maria.

What a load of bunk. I want presents galore. I want to invite friends to play games with me. I want someone to give me a goody bag.

Maybe that will still happen. Maybe the whole take have my daughter’s birthday party on my birthday thing is a ruse to get me to a surprise party.

I hope so. I have never had a surprise party in my honor. I just hope I look surprised when I walk in and see all my friends and family there. I don’t want to disappoint them.

Who am I kidding? This isn’t about me any more. This is about the kid.

What a rip off.

As usual, I will get no sympathy from my siblings. I’m lucky that almost no one had a birthday within two weeks of mine for so many years. We have so many people who share birthdays, it’s not funny.

I should have seen this coming. When we realized that Bridget would be born around my birthday, I was pretty excited. How cool for us to have parties together?

Except she won’t share with me. I told her that I deserved a goodie bag and My Little Pony party hat just like everyone else since the party was taking place on my birthday. She shot me down.

And when Maria went to buy all the party items, I requested Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle items to celebrate my birthday. I got nothing, even though she saw TMNJ plates on sale.

I feel like Rodney Dangerfield.

I’ll recover somehow. Maybe I’ll just sit in the basement with the DVD of Old School and a six-pack. I just hope I can get my hands on a Ninja Turtle beer stein.