Me: Happy birthday, Bud! How does it feel to be seventeen?
Bud: Frankly, I feel pretty crappy. It seems like everything I do, I've done before. In fact, didn't you already do this picture last year?
Me: Don't complain. It's called recycling.
Bud: Yeeeah...I'll bet this beer is warm. There's probably no pizza in this box. Look! One measly candle. I should have seventeen. And where are the dancing pugs I asked for?
Me: So you don't want an IPhone for your birthday this year.
Bud: Sure I do...but when has asking for one done me any good at all?
Me: Okay. Have it your way. Be cranky.
Bud: Maybe I will.
Me: Okay, then.
Bud: Okay.
Me: OK.
Bud: OK!
Me: ok
Bud: Human?
Me: Yes, Bud?
Bud: When are you going to sing me Happy Birthday?