Sunday, 9 December 2012

On ageing

Last week I celebrated my birthday. My father kindly described my age as 40 with a 10% discount. I don't think I have quite come to terms with how old that feels, I'm not really sure how I've reached this point. I demand a re-count.

The day itself was less eventful than the preceding weekend - I was woken by A next to my bed wielding a glow-stick and telling me to come down. I had a lovely breakfast with the boys and opened my presents. Lucky girl, my dear husband framed a few of the old photographs we unearthed last week and these were my favourite presents. I was also given a couple of Donna Wilson pieces, two cookery books I've coveted for a long time, a jar of homemade granola, a vintage metal polar bear, a set of juicy-coloured melamine egg cups, Mad Men series 5, a necklace, flowers, and lots more. Spoilt rotten.

The previous Sunday we went for lunch at my parents. The rather boozy and delicious meal culminated in games as organised by A: 'parsle parsle', musical statues and musical bumps. Well, I think bootcamp is knocked off the top spot - musical bumps is the toughest exercise there is. At this ripe old age, it's a long way down (and back up again). And we picked the fastest songs we could think of, and danced like 5-year-olds at the school disco (by which I mean moving every limb as quickly as possible). To mark the occasion, I have made a musical bumps playlist. It may need to come with a warning...


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