what a swell birthday it's been
On Friday, my husband and I took the day off work and I was treated to a delicious lunch at a pub called The Plough. It's run by the couple who were in charge at the Old Bridge when we got married, and the food was fantastic. I had a light and velvety leek and potato soup to start, salmon fishcakes, and a perfectly cooked creme brulee for dessert. Paul had smoked salmon and blinis, steak and kidney pudding, and a selection of English cheese. Yum, yum, and yum.
On Saturday, I woke up to a pile of presents and a little boy who was more than willing to help me open them. After establishing that everything wasn't indeed "MINE!" (particularly the TomTom device), he decided to walk around with a gift bag on his head making various arrrrrrrrgh type noises. As you do. Jack has been singing a happy birthday song to me for the past few days (it goes: "Happy birthday...youuuuu" over and over until he's distracted by something), and it makes my heart melt. Paul made me a dinner of filet steak with my favourite horrifyingly calorific creamy potatoes, which I inhaled in around three seconds. Yum again, I say.
I don't really mind being a year older; any excuse to eat cake is fine by me. It was a lovely weekend, I was spoiled rotten, and I even managed to have a long nap on one afternoon. I could do this every year.
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