My daughter tells me that when your birthday falls three weeks after Christmas, as hers does, then the celebration can be a real bomb.

No one really feels like shopping for more gifts. Plus the money is all spent, the charge cards maxed out. And forget about eating more cake. There isn’t a waistline in our family that can afford another teaspoon of sugar after all the holiday goodie grazing.

My daughter also tells me that I shouldn’t worry about the plight of her January birthday. That, at 14, she doesn’t expect any more parties or streamers or big gifts. After all, she’s only two years away from getting her driver’s license.

But no matter what she says, I do worry about doing the right and the festive thing on her birthday.

Year after year, I try to put a new spin on the event so she’ll have fun and remember it distinctly from the set of gifts and fun she had at Christmastime. Last year, I threw a surprise party. Many years ago, her father filled the apartment with helium balloons. She doesn’t remember her first birthday, but she was allowed to dig right into her cake which was placed on the tray of her high chair.

This year, I asked if she wanted some family friends to come over. She said no.

I asked if she wanted some school friends to come over for cake and ice cream, and she snapped back absolutely not.

I asked if she wanted her best friend to come over, and she warned that I should drop it.

I didn’t, of course. I went out and bought a pizza, a package of Double Stuf Oreos and a kitten.

When my daughter walked into the house after basketball practice, I nonchalantly called hello to her.

How was practice? I asked.

Good, she said, and was giving the details when the new kitten rounded the corner and walked down the hall toward her. She stopped mid-sentence and said elatedly, “Oh, a little kitty!”

It was one of those purely happy responses that we don’t often associate with teens.

Her coat fell to the floor and her hands reached down to scoop up the animal. They both purred. It was love at first sight.

She immediately called her best friend to see if she could come over to meet the pet and stay for dinner. The answer was yes.

After pizza, I opened 14 Oreos and stuck a candle in each one and lit them. My daughter’s friend held the kitty up to the table as we sang “Happy Birthday To You.”

My daughter had nearly hyperventilated trying to blow out the candles before we realized they were the re-lighting kind. It was a mistake and not a practical joke, which made it all the funnier and the girls giggled as they doused the small flames in a bowl of water.

We all ate Oreos. And we laughed at the kitten as she attacked wool balls and slid across the wood floor.

This was not like Christmas and it was not like any other birthday, except for the song.

It was just a lot of good, simple fun — the kind you might not have if your birthday falls in June.