My youngest missed the chance his due date gave him to only have to be reminded it’s his birthday at every fourth year. His missed his chance to have the only date that’s a command. (I’ll give you to the count of four to figure that one out.)
And today we celebrated over the phone. A chocolate torte, safely cut into small, individually-wrapped pieces before freezing, is being gradually consumed in his honor over as many days as it takes. Happy Birthday, John!