Well to be totally accurate my own are never that much fun but my husband's on the other hand are enviably fun filled; they go on for days. For him the fun and festivity started more than a week beforehand when an excitingly torpedo-shaped parcel arrived via courier from France. We tore it open to find a large tin of Duck Confit inside, a kind thought from Dearest Daughter who was holidaying in a duck specialising village with boyfriend and parents of same.
The birthday celebration got even more exciting when I offered to turn the contents of the can into a Cassoulet as a pre-birthday dinner to share with Number 2 Son who was briefly visiting from China. Both males agreed that would go down very nicely and rushed off together into the inner reaches of Parnell to purchase suitable wine for the occasion. Many hours later we three were in total accord - a Cassoulet without duck is like an English breakfast without bacon. They had only had the duckless version in the past.
`What a simply divine birthday', said Husband as he slipped into bed that night and adjusted his Cepak machine. But there was more to come.
Yesterday saw us both furtively lingering at the door of Harbourside, our favourite downtown restaurant because - yes, you've guessed, he needed a birthday lunch. Two hours later, nicely filled with roasted John Dory he said it had been a splendid lunch!
What a birthday! But wait there's more.......
Just when we thought the surprises and treats really must stop, contemplating the breakfast dishes on this chilly Auckland winter morning, the trusty red and yellow courier van once more appeared in the street. Dearest Daughter now back in London, had organised for the latest Bill Bryson book to be delivered and very soon he will know more about 1927 than you could ever imagine.
`It's slightly over the top,' I told him in my best school mistressy voice. But so immersed was he in the first chapter that I do not believe he heard me!
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