Tomorrow is my birthday and unfortunately it’s a big one (29 plus 1) and as someone who’s not good with birthdays on a standard year, this one is going to be a toughy.
So, just to limit any confusion I’ve decided to outline the things I expect from this birthday:
- For the first time in nearly seven months, I would like to wake up after the sun does.
- I would like to have a bath, not a shower, but a long languishing soak in the tub from which I will emerge when I bloody well feel like it. Without conditioner stuck in my ear and razor burn under my armpits.
- I would like to wear underwear without nursing clips and reacquaint myself with my hairbrush.
- I want to have a conversation in the morning that isn’t about who Wendy the Wide-Mouthed Frog spoke to next in the jungle and talk using my normal adult voice for an entire day.
- I would like to eat with BOTH hands.
- Just for once I want to enter my living room in the morning and not feel like I’ve been slapped in the face by the entire Fisher Price aisle in Toys’R’Us. 24 hours in a neon-plastic-free zone is not that much to ask. Clearly, the jumperoo will have to be dismantled throughout the night by a team of trained professionals.
- No nursery rhymes, no farmyard noises and no In The F-ing Night Garden. Iggle Piggle can suck it.
- I will happily put the pureed sweet potato into the baby, but I’m making it someone else’s responsibility when it comes out the other end.
- I will be drinking at lunchtime. Sorry, FROM lunchtime. In abundance.
- I need everyone to tell me I look young.
- I need to everyone to tell me I look thin.
- I need a lot of cards in which people tell me how young and thin I look.
- I need gifts that help me get drunk, thin and younger – the first person who presents me with a Mothercare babygrow and some nipple cream will be asked to take care of the sweet potato nappy and will then be punched in the eye.