LB’s 18th birthday. As usual, he only wanted to open one present. The thing he’d asked for (little mechanic/bus guys). Then off to London for crispy duck in Chinatown. The trip involved a bus journey, a walk from Baker Street to Chinatown and a constant backdrop of London buses (and statements.)
“Mum. I wish I was a Londoner Mum..” “Mum. I wish I was a Londoner Mum..” “Mum. I wish I was a Londoner Mum..”…. “Mum. I wish I was a Londoner Mum..”
Then out of the blue, crossing Oxford Street, “MUM. WHERE’S ROSIE MUM?”
Wow! How cool is that??? (First time he’s asked since she started university over a year ago). I said we’d skype her when we got home.
The food was good and then it was back to Marble Arch to wait for the bus home. Big Bus Tour buses stopped at the same stop which was great. An added layer of deliciousness for the birthday boy.
After we’d been home a while, I found LB sitting in the kitchen on his own. He was waiting to skype Rosie. Sob.
Later, after a big fun filled skype session with everyone pitching in, we all (apart from Rosie) sat squashed on the settee, with crisps and pop, watching X Factor. LB loves Tulisa. She’s a Londoner.
“Mum, I wish Tulisa was my sister Mum.”
“I wish Tulisa was my sister.”
(… and the Olympia Horse of the Year Show programme)
Every year on his birthday, Laughing boy chooses a treat. This could be a day out, a meal or whatever he wants really. It’s become a bit of a family joke that he only ever wants me to go on this treat. No amount of bribery, coaxing or cajoling shakes his conviction that it’s “Just you and me, Mum”.
A few years ago, we were all invited to Danny’s 21st party. It was being held in a big old pub in Hometowny and the party was in full swing when Richy Rich and I arrived with all the kids. As we walked through the lobby, a strapping young guy leapt on top of Richy and wrestled him to the ground in an arm lock. Me and the kids stepped over the pair of them and made our way to the bar.
“A pint of Carlsberg, pint of London Pride, four cokes and an orange juice, please”, I asked the girl serving behind the bar.
“I think he liked me”, said Richy, tucking his shirt back into his jeans, as he joined us at the bar. We made our way to a table near the disco.
Credits: Thanks to Mary (and Danny) for a great evening. A sneaky ‘big up’ to My life My Choice..