Bloody hell where did the last seven years go? It feels like it was only a week ago that we came home from the hospital with this little squished up bab6 version of ET. We put him in his basket and just stared at him while briefly giving each other ‘shit, what do we do now’ looks and drinking tea. Now he’s 7, has a shaved head and hides under a blanket when people kiss on TV.
But today is his birthday and he’s the big 7. He got up early, woke us all up and ventured downstairs to find a new bike, clothes, balloons, cards and the hand buzzer thingy he asked for in January. I can now inform you that we totally regret buying the hand buzzer thingy. I’m sure when he originally mentioned that he wanted the hand buzzer thingy we were like “yeah, that’s fine, nice little present for you, if that’s what you want” and all that. But the realities of living with a hand buzzer thingy in isolation have been slightly different and I can absolutely confirm, had he requested this a week ago our reply would have been more along the lines of a polite “probably not”.
But he was smiling, he was excited, he had chocolate cake and candles and a manic time video calling all the family. He got cards and birthday balloons with ‘1st birthday’ written on them, but he didn’t mind. We had birthday banners and party plates and we made do with a party of five. Then, during the “what was your favorite bit” conversion he dropped in that this was the worst birthday ever and we sat up feeling guilty all night. To give a bit of perspective to this comment, his sister was rushed to hospital by ambulance on the morning of his fourth birthday, so to say this is the worse makes it pretty bad.
But we got through the day, it wasn’t what he hoped but he got a special one anyway and how did it end I hear you say, well it ended with them all crying. The birthday boy because his Dad couldn’t transfer his Minecraft village to his new tablet. The girl because she wanted to sit next the birthday boy and the little one because he bust his lip, there was blood everywhere. I blame the cake.
Happy Birthday to you.
oh, and if you were wondering the buzzy thing didn’t make it…
