After a night of wrapping presents and sorting out clues to my son’s treasure hunt we were woken at 6am to squeals of delight. “Please sing me happy birthday” at which point my husband and I sounded like we were singing the death march, but he was happy as long as we clapped six times to indicate his age.
After doing the treasure hunt and receiving presents fit for only the upper classes he complained the hunt was only inside (its cold and wet out) and there were only three. I have a policy to try to not shout at kids on their birthdays but this was a push. I remained tight lipped.
Dinner with the family included pancakes, icecream and really poor service from a waitress who has “only been there a week” and I wondered if this included the country as her English was at best poor!
Thank goodness his birthday is over.
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