There were strange goings-on in the kitchen yesterday.
We were celebrating the birthday of the Middle of the Darling Daughters.
Okay, we were a few days early but that means she will be able to celebrate all over again on Tuesday. And, as I always say, why have one birthday celebration, when you could have two? Or, in the case of my lovely brother-in-law, Baz, who will be seventy tomorrow,
The Youngest of the Darling Daughters was staying for a couple of days so was able to help me with the most important of preparations. Such as pinning
up a birthday banner over the front door (“I’m not sure how long it will stay up,” she warned me, nursing the sore thumbs with which she had pushed the drawing pins into place) and dressing the Giant Penguin for his chilly wait on the door-step.
She also suggested we try to remove from view anything which might suffer from the attentions of the Rascally Trio though, to be honest, that was always going to be an impossible task. Rather, we thought, we would take them all out for a walk along the prom,
prom, prom before the skies darkened, to run off some of their quite fearsome energy.
The Rascals had had the same idea. Could we please go to the Lido, they clamoured,
and play on the slot machines? Such a bad influence I have turned out to be - plus a forgetful one, completely failing to remember that our last visit ended in tears. Still it was a bit chilly to be out on the seafront for too long, so the Lido it was where
Young Faris approached the task of mastering the Art of Tipping with a keen, forensic eye, unlike Lilia ( aka Contrary Lil) who seemed to be engaged in her own personal challenge of disposing of her pounds-worth of twopenny pieces as quickly as possible.
She did, however, win a lollipop which was promptly confiscated by her mamma, who has heard several alarming stories from other mothers who have had to perform the Heimlich
manoeuvre to dislodge lollies from their little ones’ choking throats. The fella at the kiosk was happy to exchange the lollipop for a unicorn key-ring for Lilia before unexpectedly producing a second unicorn for her twin: “I have twins, too!”
he explained, knowingly. It was, indeed, an Act of Random Unicorn Related Kindness.
There were a few tears when we left but they were soon dried as the Trio set
to the task of collecting stones from the beach to be decorated when we arrived back at our house as “presents for Mummy.” For some reason it was my youngest daughter and I who were charged with carrying fists and pockets full of stones back
to our parked car. The actual decoration of the stones kept the Trio gainfully occupied while their tea was being prepared and I’m sure their mother will be delighted with her present once she recovers from the fact that the party bag in which they were
wrapped fell apart as she picked it up, depositing several of the very largest stones on her big toe...
Those of you who have been paying attention may
now be wondering what happened in the kitchen. After all, that was how today’s blog started, you are thinking. Thank you for waiting, is all I can say.
in the kitchen was the birthday cake I had lovingly baked and decorated. I was quite proud of it, though I say so myself as shouldn’t (as my dear mum would doubtless chide me.) As I was sitting in the living room, warming up with a mug of coffee, the
Twins came running in, taking me by the hands and dragging me off to the kitchen to “come and see what we’ve done!” They had, it transpired, turned their own hands to cake decorating, inserting giant chocolate buttons into the icing on top
of the cake so that it resembled a kind of round hedgehog. It was, I assured them, amazing. With their brother we added those birthday candles which spell out Happy Birthday before I returned to the living room and my coffee.
Some time later, after they had eaten tea, it was Time for Cake so off we went, the Trio and I, to light the candles while the Youngest of the Darling Daughters placed herself in charge of Turning
Off the Lights. This was when I discovered that Persons Unknown had rearranged the candles on top of the cake so that it now read “Pry hab pithy da”. It would have been rude to rearrange, I felt, so we lit the candles anyway and between the four
of us ceremoniously carried the cake into the living room in a kind of crab-like shuffle. We reached the Birthday Girl on the last note of Happy Birthday but before she could take breath ready to blow out her candles, all three Rascals blew in unison. The
candles flickered valiantly under attack but were soon extinguished. Predictable, according to the Trio’s mamma...
It’s always fun when the Trio come
to visit and never more so when there is something special to celebrate. As for their mother, all I can say is “Pry hab pithy da” to you, my darling girl. You know it makes (kind of) sense...