Office birthdays are usually simple—balloons, cake, and a quick song before heading back to work. Last week, it was my turn, and honestly, I hadn’t expected anyone to remember. Deadlines had us all buried, and I’m not the type to broadcast my birthday. So when my team surprised me with a chocolate cake, a card with silly messages, and a candle, I was touched. It wasn’t fancy, but it meant a lot.
We cut the cake, shared laughs, and enjoyed the break. That’s when one colleague, who hadn’t pitched in for the cake, asked if she could take some home for her kids. I agreed—sharing a slice or two didn’t bother me. But when I turned around, she was boxing up the entire leftover cake.
I stopped her and said, “You can’t take all of it.” She fired back, “Well, you don’t have kids. They’ll enjoy it more.” The room went silent. Everyone stared, waiting to see what I’d do. Without making a scene, I took the cake back and returned to my desk with it.
It wasn’t really about the cake. What stung was her assumption—that because I didn’t have children, my celebration somehow mattered less. It made me realize how often small moments can reveal people’s real attitudes.
