My maternal grandmother was born on August 8th, 1908. 8/8/08. For obvious reasons, she decided that 8 was her lucky number.
My mother is her youngest child. She was born on July 29th. For reasons that make zero sense to me (Grandma was a true character and I say that with the greatest possible love and respect) she decided that she was just going to pretend that Mom was born on the 28th. Why she did this for only the third child, I have no idea. Her second daughter did have an "8" birthday, but not the first, and the first has always celebrated her birthday on the 7th, the day on which she was actually born. Novel concept.
The way Mom tells it, she had no idea her birthday was actually the 29th until she needed her birth certificate to apply for a passport as a grown woman.
Of course, by that point, she was used to celebrating on the 28th. I call her with birthday wishes on the 28th AND the 29th. We call the 28th her "love birthday."
Happy love birthday, Mom. Your mother may have been way too superstitious about the number 8, but now we have two days each year to celebrate you. ;)
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