Yes, it's birthday time!! The time of year when I watch my two boys rip open their presents with joy and I weep as my ISA bleeds.
Daniel, about to become seven, opted for laser warfare followed by Macdonalds with four friends, his self-made invitation reading, READY TO FIGHT PEOPLE?
Mum and dad traipsed the five boys around in two cars from home to LazerZone to Macdonalds and back home again.
On the last leg of the journey, I asked the giddy chattering boys who would like to come in my car.
Billy put his hand up, the others went silent and looked at the ground.
"Great Billy, jump in the car sweetheart."
"But....why can't I go in Gary's car?" whimpered Billy.
"Well, you put your hand up when I asked who wanted to come in my car," I replied.
"Oh, I didn't hear the question properly."
Once some of the boys had been bribed with confectionary into getting in my car (clearly not the fun option) I enjoyed their banter.
"Woah, look at that Mazda Oliver," said Dylan.
"That's not Asda, that's Sainsbury's," said Oliver.
As we passed the Huddersfield Town stadium, Billy piped up: "I go there to watch the footie."
"That's nice Billy, do you go with your mum and dad?, I asked.
"No, just my dad, my mum doesn't like football, she just likes boring trampolining," scoffed Billy.
Blimey, seems all us mums are very dull aren't we?!
Teddy has also had a birthday and received a card with £12 in it from a dear friend and neighbour.
"I wonder why Monica gave me £12 and not £10," pondered Teddy, "it's a strange amount."
I let him stew over it for a few days, before asking: "Teddy, how old were you last week?"
"Twelve mum, why.......ah, that's why Monica gave me £12 for my birthday!"
Friends, and now close family members (you know who you are mother), now use a stock phrase, 'it's a good job he's gorgeous!'
Friends no longer give me gifts, they offer presents in kind in the form of blog fodder with the opening, 'hey, I've got a good one for your blog Dianne....'
Here's one such classic gift.
At an aerobics class my friend attended, the instructor hollered: "Come on ladies, shake what your mama gave you!!"
My friend dutifully grapevined and muttered under her breath, "what, you mean low self esteem, fat ankles and arachnophobia?"
And speaking of car showrooms....
What bunch of marketing diploma'd twerps sat round a glass table in a glass-walled office in their Top Shop suits dreamt up the summer's Toyota Aygo slogan?
And I wonder how many brightly coloured helium-filled balloons were required to counteract that welcoming (?!) 'down with the kids' play on words....
Is this the future of advertising?
Nice.
(Funnily enough, when I Googled the words, go fun yourself, the next predicted word was, 'complaints'.)
