At Choir this morning everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to Mr B. It was only to be expected, given that singing is what the Choir is all about. That and nattering.
The men’s section followed this up with a rousing rendition of “21 again!” Do you know that song? The next lines are: “He’s got the key of the door, Never been 21 before!” If you believe
that, you’ll believe anything...
Incidentally, I could not help but notice that all the very best chairs – the ones with supportive arms, comfy seats
and padded backs – had been set out in the men’s section while we altos and sopranos had to make do with the rickety, plastic chairs. It would not have been politic to raise this with the fellas because, after all, they are the ones who set out
the chairs ready for our weekly singing session. It was, however, glaringly obvious that they were operating under the age-old First Come, Best Served basis. I went to find myself a cushion just to show I didn’t care.
We took a couple of boxes of Celebration chocolates to share amongst our fellow choristers, to mark Mr B’s Big Day. It probably wasn’t the best idea as everyone
was so busy chewing that our articulation of the words of “Lullaby of Broadway” left much to be desired. Our Conductor, the Redoubtable Muriel, pursed her lips but with a half-smile playing about the corners of her mouth. I think she
may have missed us over the Christmas holidays.
After Choir we gathered in the community centre cafe for coffee and a chat. More and more people are joining
us every week to prolong the morning’s pleasure so we are taking over several of the tables. There’s always lots to talk about. Today everyone wanted to ask Mr B how he would be celebrating his birthday but, as I told you yesterday, he is
a bit in the dark about all our plans for tomorrow’s family get-together and party. “I expect my secretary will tell me sooner or later,” he shrugged in response to every friendly enquiry, with a pointed look in my direction. Secretary,
We collected his birthday cake from M&S and I let him have a peek. It was his birthday after all. “Do you like the colour theme?” I asked
him. He beamed at me: “Yes, Wimbledon!” he said, giving me a nasty moment because the theme is actually Gillingham Football Club. Which is blue and white, rather than green and purple. I checked the cake and it is, quite definitely
blue and white. Mr B excused himself by saying he only had a quick glimpse. Plus, your eye-sight fails with age, doesn’t it?
I can’t imagine for a
moment that I will have time to blog tomorrow, so it will be Sunday before I am able to let you into all the secrets planned for tomorrow. I have promised Mr B that they are all pleasant surprises. He is not totally convinced.
I tell him that he must remember that, while birthdays are principally for the Birthday Boy or Girl, they are also an opportunity for the Nearest and Dearest to show how much they care.
“In other words, muses Mr B, “I’m doing this for you...”
I have celebrated half a century of Mr B’s birthdays. I hope to celebrate many more to come. So many Happy Birthdays, Mr B.