This time, eighteen years ago, I was stuck in Hospital not having my son. I’d continue to not have him until they cut me open at about 2.30 am on the 15th. It was an odd day, not unlike this one, and the indignity of having my waters broken with a plastic knitting needle still irks, even now. Earlier on this afternoon my husband congratulated me on getting one out of two children to adulthood without screwing it up.
Yeah, he has a point.
That means the next birthday up on the list is mine. There’s already a ton of ‘buy from us and save X Pounds’ vouchers sent by people occasionally shopped with online but if I’m honest none of these things are of any interest. This year, I think I’ll just be grateful if people remember and are nice. Anything else is a bonus.
Just had a shower, have an enormous salad for dinner, and now I can do some work.