No, fine, okay.
Last year you were dying, and your birthday was presumably weird because of it, I don’t know. Since you haven’t /had/ another birthday since then, how can you know it’s ‘just another day’?
I made you a cake.
Because it was three years ago, not last year, and I’ve kept it pretty quiet since then. Things exploded; just ask Rhodey. He helped.
But cake is always welcome.
… dear gods, was the Expo really that long ago? I feel old now.
Forget my stupid and come have cake. And ice cream. And then you can tell me what you want for your birthday.