Dan's birthday is a very special event in our year because he still greets birthdays and Christmas (and every other day as well) like and exuberant toddler; just a very big one. We have to make a big fuss, and we apply the same, successful formula every year.
We keep his birthday a secret until it arrives, as Dan doesn't really appreciate the difference between "next week" and "in a minute". The anticipation is almost enough for him to wet himself. (I have to admit to feeling the same myself, but I have a big, fat prostate as an excuse.) On his birthday we secretly smuggle cakes into school to be distributed just before the kids go home. That way the taxi drivers get to deal with the brunt of the sugar-shock and we just have to dust the crumbs off and stick them in front of the telly.
Dan gets to open his presents at tea time when both parents are home. I was late, so he had to wait this time; and he did! What a star!
The main event is when everyone comes for the party at the weekend. We always hire a bouncy castle and lay on booze, medication and snacks, and more booze. The parents appreciate these things. The kids get things to do as well, but we don't pay them much attention really! They get on just fine, apart from the odd casualty. This year it was Thea's turn again as she got poked in the eye with a wooden sword, necessitating a hospital visit on Monday. The adults got off with bad backs and detached retinas mainly (and possibly hangovers or swine flu, but it's too soon to tell which.)
I'm writing this at 11.30 pm after taking Nick back to college in Hereford. Tomorrow, everyone is back to work, school or the dole queue, and none of us gave a thought to Karl Marx and the other Socialist academics who gave us a May holiday and are, incidentally, laughing in their coffins at the mess that the free trade/market system has left us in.
Jim
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