Writes Virginia in Sumner, Washington: “Going through a box of old photographs in the attic, I found this birthday card I gave my father when I was five or six. I was a terrible child.”

related: Some daughterly wisdom for Dad

According to our submitter, Jason and his cake-baking wife are newlyweds. So…I guess the honeymoon’s over?

related: “I don’t need a birthday cake,” I said.

extra credit: Bruce Bogtrotter’s chocolate cake

So, imma let you in on a little secret: nobody has any reason to give a shit about your birthday. If you’re over the age of, say, 12, and still expect people to fete your very existence every year, you should also expect to be disappointed. (Yes, I’m the Grinch of birthdays. And don’t even get me started on “birthday weeks.”)

That said, in this case our submitter actually did call her mother on the day of her birth. When Mom didn’t pick up, quick-thinking daughter left her a message. After that, our submitter says, her mother didn’t return her calls for several days — until phoning to say, “Check your e-mail.” While still on the line, our submitter did just that — and found this lovely e-card.

related: It’s my pity party and I’ll whine if I want to

extra credit: Half birthdays are the new black [stfuparents]

Writes our submitter: “Last year Zaky changed the date of his birthday on Facebook just to test if anyone actually knew his real birthday. Nobody did, probably because he pulls crappy mind games like this. He did it again this year and it still didn’t work.”

I think Melissa (below) probably said it best: “Whatever, Zaky, as if anyone actually cares when your birthday is?”

related: It’s my pity party and I’ll whine if I want to

Dara’s birthday is coming up, and her grandpa sent her this card. (Explains Dara: “He calls birthdays ‘anniversaries’ because ‘you only have one birth day.’) Nice, huh? And we haven’t even gotten to the guilt-trippy part yet.

“He lives in Florida and I live in upstate New York.” Dara says. “I went to visit my parents in NYC a few weeks ago and he chose to visit them the day after I left. Somehow that’s my fault.”

related: Don’t worry, I’m alive. Not that you’d care. I’m only your mother!

Leslie in Wilmington, North Carolina says her baby sister has “always been pretty intense.” To wit: while going through some old papers recently, she dug up this card, which her then-10-year-old sister sent to Leslie’s boyfriend at the time.

(I’d like to think that beneath that thin layer of Liquid Paper lies an even more specific accusation, but baby sis’ decided that a more veiled threat would be the best way to scare Jon straight.)

related: Let the rest of us eat cake.