Today is Canada’s 148th birthday. To celebrate, we invited Canada to write a guest op-ed.
It’s me, Canada.
And today’s my birthday.
No, no, it’s cool. No need to apologize. It’s not like I’m your like closest neighbour or anything. I understand that it’s easy to forget, what with everything going on with Mexico. I mean, I like to think I’m a slightly better neighbour than Mexico, given all the doo-doo you two are fighting about all the time, and you never forget Cinco de Mayo, but yeah, that’s fine.
I get it. You’ve got your own thing going on. What with your racial tensions (I always said slavery was a bad idea,but no, you didn’t listen) and your trying to strike down Obamacare. How’s that going, by the way? Finally decided to join the rest of us OECD nations by providing some kind of nationalized healthcare? No? Too bad. All that fighting about it seems to keep you busy, though. Like too busy to remember my birthday.
OK, can I be honest for a second? I know I said it doesn’t bother me, but it does. I never forget your birthday. I can’t. You don’t shut up about it. It’s alway like, “Hey, you know what’s coming up next week? Do you? Do you?”
Is that the problem? That our birthdays are so gosh darn close together? There are two whole days in between, America. It’s not like anyone’s going to forget you. No one ever forgets you. When everyone brings up World War II, it’s like, “Oooh, America, America, everything turned when America got involved.” We had a whole beach on D-Day. A whole beach. And it’s not just WWII. When all your politicians are going on and on about foreign oil, everyone pictures some guy in a turban on a camel in the desert in the Middle East (which is a super racist thing to picture, btw), but do you know who your number one trading partner is for oil? Of course you don’t, your education is terrible. Me. That’s who. If you’re going to picture something racist, you should be picturing a maple-syrup swilling, moose-riding, hockey-stick carrying Canadian. You should be picturing a damned Canadian.
Oh man. There. Now you’ve gone and done it. You see? You see what you made me do? You got me all worked up and I’m swearing like some kind of hoser. But I shouldn’t be blaming you. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It’s not your fault. I just get so gosh darn angry sometimes. But I shouldn’t take it out on you. I don’t want to start a fight. Please don’t hurt me.
I’m just going to go back to my corner and sit down. Forget this ever happened.
Happy early birthday.