I don’t remember what I got for my 9th birthday.

I remember the yellow Snoopy watch I got when I turned 7 (I wish I hadn’t lost it) and the “sewing machine” that used glue, and when I was 8 I begged for (and got) an Easy Bake Oven. But I don’t remember 9, or much after, except for the lemon-scented Tickle deodorant I demanded for my 11 1/2 birthday.

But I’m sure I wanted something when I turned 9. Annabelle’s birthday is next week, and I’m stumped. So is she.

“I really don’t want anything,” she told me last night, sounding a little exasperated. “I’m not greedy.”

Either she’s not greedy, or she’s really spoiled. Frankly, I can’t think of a thing she needs or even something she should want that she doesn’t have. A third American Girl doll? Another DSi?

Don’t get me wrong: I’m in awe of this kid who doesn’t want anything, who is more content drawing in old sketch books than ripping open boxes of new toys. (And it’s a welcome contrast to her sister, who started her Hanukkah/Christmas list the day after her birthday.) We had Annabelle’s party early, since this city empties out in July, and the truth is that the presents from her friends are still sitting in a basket on the dining room table, pretty much untouched. She did try on her party hat last night. (See above. The presents were fabulous, as was the party — pictures to come soon.)

The question remains: What do I get her? Ray will take her jet skiing on her birthday (not sure who that gift is really for!) and she and I have been talking about going away for a weekend just the two of us, so maybe I’ll look for some travel books for kids.  But that hardly seems like enough.

“You really can’t think of something?” I asked one last time. “So you don’t want us to get you anything?”

“Oh no,” came the quick reply. “You better get me presents. I’ll be sad if you don’t.”

Phew. At least she’s human.