Professor Birthday Isn't Famous

By Eric Kahn Gale

You know Santa Claus, Cupid and the Easter Bunny. But you don't know Professor Birthday.

And that is devastating. She creates every birthday party all around the world - and she deserves a little cr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Birthday University Press
• Release date: May 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9798988120124

Book preview

Professor Birthday Isn't Famous

Eric Kahn Gale

Birthday University Press

Book a school visit with Professor Birthday at ProfessorBirthday.com

Write Professor Birthday or the author: [e-mail]

Copyright © [2023] by [Eric Kahn Gale]

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

Contents

1. Professor Birthday Isn't Famous

2. The Birthday Twins

3. Clowns vs Princesses

4. Even Better Than Last Year

5. Regifted

6. The 40th Birthday Problem

7. Milk and Cookies

8. Teen

9. Bad Wishes

10. The Boy who Leaped Over his Birthday

11. The Birthday Coupon

12. The Movie Premiere

A Few Words Before We Go

A Few More Words

Professor Birthday Isn't Famous

You don’t know who Professor Birthday is – but you should. For most people, their birthday is their favorite day of the year.

Professor Birthday makes those days happen.

She does the planning, baking and making for every birthday party all around the world. But she doesn’t work alone; there are way too many birthdays for that.

You know that Santa Claus has a workshop full of elves that help him make Christmas. Well, Professor Birthday has something better.

She has Birthday University, where all of us live. Who are us? We’re her students. And we study the birthday arts. We write happy birthday cards, decorate parties, bake cakes and select presents! It’s really fun.

Professor Birthday is always busy, but she’s happy. Or at least, she was happy until one day, when she had one spare moment and she made the mistake… of Googling herself.

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Professor Birthday looked exhausted. Her flowing robes hadn’t been changed in days. Her long hair was limp and heavy and her normally cheery smile was nowhere to be seen.

She stood at the far end of a long, wide table in the Birthday University teacher’s lounge. She had called an emergency meeting of the Birthday University department heads.

The Creative Director of Birthday Cards sat nervously at her side and the Head Chef of the Cake Baking Institute sat opposite her. Down the table, all the top researchers from the School of Birthday Sciences gathered close and, of course, the leaders of the Clown College were there along with many others.

Professor Birthday was the Founder, President, Dean and Big Boss of Birthday University and she was upset.

Has anyone Googled my name recently? she said, looking around the table.

Her department heads shifted in their seats.

Professor Birthday held a phone high above her head. On the screen was a Google search page. It showed the results for Professor Birthday.

Nothing! She shouted. Zero. Not one thing about me!

And look at this! Professor Birthday typed furiously into the phone. When you Google Santa Claus…

No! – Professor, don’t! – Stop! shouted the department heads. But Professor Birthday didn’t listen.

One-hundred… Professor Birthday’s voice quivered. One-hundred… million hits. She bit her lip. He’s famous. He’s world famous! And no one on Earth knows who I am.

Professor Birthday looked desperately around the room. Her department heads couldn’t meet her eyes. How could this happen? She asked. Aren’t you shocked?

The department heads traded glances. Professor Birthday, said the Creative Director of Birthday Cards. We already know.

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As it turned out, we all knew – not just the department heads, but us birthday students, too. Everyone at Birthday University knew that the world had forgotten about us – everyone except Professor Birthday herself.

We were too busy making birthdays to discuss it.

Presents needed to be wrapped. Parties decorated. Pointy hats provided.

Professor Birthday had made it our mission to give each person on Earth one day to feel special. We would surround them with their friends and family.

We would help them express their passions through gifts and birthday themes. We would help them celebrate the unexplainable miracle of their births!

And yet, they don’t know who I am? Professor Birthday suddenly screamed.

Everyone around her froze. The meeting with the department heads was long over. The Professor was in a classroom lecturing Birthday 101 students, but her mind had wandered.

I need to go to the bathroom, Professor Birthday mumbled and sped out of the lecture hall. She ran through the corridors of the university and fled to her most distant tower.

She locked the door behind herself and sat sullenly. I love making birthdays, she said. Does it really matter if no one knows me?

She put her fist through her desk, splitting it in half. It does to me – clearly, she said, observing the remains of her thoroughly shattered desk. Birthdays are about recognition. I want to be recognized!

A dusty object caught Professor Birthday’s eye. It was an old-style telephone that sat on a corner table.

It was red.

It had been years since it had last rung. And, out of pride, she always waited until the last minute to pick it up.

But she wasn’t feeling prideful now. She was desperate. Painfully, she strode across the room and, bitterly, lifted the phone from its cradle.

He answered instantly. Ho Ho Hello?

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The off-season for Santa Claus was long. And the big man had been doing what he typically did during his 11-month vacation: little of this, little of that.

In the morning, he read Dear Santa letters, but he could never get through all of them. Then, he had a long lunch and by mid-afternoon he was relaxing by the heated pool. He watched videos on his phone and snacked on little chocolate and peanut butter figures of himself.

The Santa Life, he called it.

His video was interrupted by an incoming call: Professor Birthday.

His face lit up. Professor Birthday never called him.

Something has come to my attention, she said and explained that she had just learned that she was completely unknown.

Oh! I thought you always knew! Santa responded. Do you know that I get so many Dear Santa letters that I can’t even read them all?

The other end of the line was silent.

That must be difficult, Professor Birthday finally said. "But I’ve decided that I do want to be known by the world. I’m calling to ask your advice."

"Advice? You want my advice? Santa said, sitting up. Oh, you must come down to my workshop at once! We have a new way of wrapping presents and what we’re doing with lighting is just amazing…"

I don’t need party-making advice! Professor Birthday said, offended. "I’m a party virtuoso! And your holiday is technically a birthday, but I let you have it."

Not this again, Santa Claus said. If you don’t want party advice, then how can I help you, Professor?

I want to know how you became famous.

Ah, I see, Santa Claus said, reclining again. There is something nice about it: the books, the films. Oh, and the best part about being famous are these little chocolates they make of you! When you bite them, the centers are peanut butter. Bunny has them, too!

I know, Professor Birthday said. "But how did it happen? What started it?"

Well, I didn’t just go around introducing myself to every person. That would spoil the magic. But, over the course of my duties, I did bump into some people… from time to time.

"So, you made contact?"

"Yes, but just a little. Just when it mattered. And one of the people I met was a poet. And he wrote a poem about me: ‘Twas The Night Before Christmas – and that really kicked it off."

Writing! Got it! Professor Birthday said and promptly hung up.

Hello? Hello? Santa said, but she was gone. He took another bite of chocolate and peanut butter him. That was a long time ago. I would have recommended making a podcast.

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The door of the Birthday Card Department burst open. Startled birthday card writers and illustrators jumped up from their desks.

Professor Birthday stood in the doorway, panting.

I’m looking for a writer, she said, out of breath.

Writers and illustrators glanced at each other. Everyone loved Professor Birthday – but she could be very intense and intimidating.

"Has anyone here ever written