Four years to forty….

I woke up yesterday and was instantly pounced upon by a singing trio who performed a loud, slightly off key version of happy birthday.  It was instantly clear that their excitement of me gaining a six as opposed to a five at the end of my age was far more than my own.

It would seem that I have finally reached the age where I am happy to forgo birthdays in order to retain my previous number.

Still, one cannot fight the ageing process so I pulled open my eyes and faced the facts that I was now 36, four years from forty.

I followed my usual morning routine, initially heading to the bathroom to empty my bursting bladder, which had filled from nothing since my 5am wee.  Whilst I am 36, my bladder is advanced and frequently mimics that of a prolasped ninety year old who wears incontinence knickers to get through the night.

The three children followed me still chorusing with passion and I hoped against hope that a surprise present would be a new lock on the bathroom door.  Since BB dropped her kecks and squatted on the potty next to me you can draw your own conclusion as to whether I was disappointed or not.

As it was my birthday I returned to my bed post bathroom, it was also only 6.45 and I saw no need to face the school day.  I feel the fun can be sucked out of a morning if you are running to time, and much prefer scratching my throat with banshee like screams of fake encouragement to motivate and terrify my kids into moving faster so not to miss the bell.

The singing muskateers were relentless, and like rats following a piper they danced onto my bed and surrounded me with early morning glee.

Cards started to be thrust at me from all angles, each child desperate to have theirs opened first. Twin boy won the battle as I grabbed his card before it impaled my eye and he crowed over his sisters as I tore at the envelope.

BB paid no heed and deceided to save me a job by opening the card herself.

I was spoiled which is always a nice feeling before 7am. My cards were decorated with love and flower stickers and I was soon sitting up in bed with a new necklace sitting prettily on my chest, new books all around me calling to be read, and smelling “beautiful” (so the small one said) with a new scent on my pjs.

All of this and still not 7.10.  Then finally the singing stopped.  Making way for the school encouragement to begin.

It may have been my birthday, but I still arrived at school with a scratchy throat….