Happy birthday!

David frankly i could use less phut moments lately. i dread what’s to come in terms of injuries as described above…we’re averaging one bad bump a week lately. i rushed him round to the docs the other week because he fell on his chin and then a few minutes later got his first ever nosebleed and i panicked thinking his brain was coming out his nose. that’s when i hate being a single parent. but luckily we’ve had no major bleeders yet…*crosses fingers, touches wood, picks four leaf clover, prays, sacrifices a goat, doesn’t step on cracks, hangs horseshoe upside down, takes out insurance*

Have a LARGE birthday, namesake!

The only consolation I can find in my fifties is that I am obviously getting old in a very different way to my parents, so the badness I fear probably won’t happen – at least in the way I picture it.

Secretly (well, secretly until now) I was impressed by those new plastic bags you could buy which excluded ethylene from the vegetables. They worked well. Food just didn’t decay in the same way. Instead, it continued to look vaguely glamorous and edible until it just went phut one day, and turned into a sticky mess.

I think we can push the phut moment right out into our eighties.