Bappy Hirthday, Spud

15 Jan

  Spud is fifteen today.  This is the same child who was nearly ten pounds at birth (thank goodness for caesareans) and looked like the ‘V’ alien baby.  He was the biggest child born in the hospital that week and staff from all over the wing popped in to the nursery every day to have a look at the little monster. 

He used to stick his hand down my top as a toddler, for no reason that I ever learned.  He liked to load a toy shopping trolley with shoes, walk them up and down the hall, and repeat to himself, ‘Shooss’.  He developed a taste for formal attire at the age of three, and went everywhere in a waistcoat and dicky bow.

He’d better wear one tonight: he’s having a fictional party.  Yesterday at school, some of his friends joked about him having a party; then someone created an event on Facebook.  Despite his repeated denials, he has had at least thirty messages asking him if it’s true.  I posted a message to say that it’s not, but anyone who turns up will be offered a slice of pizza, a glass of coke and a duster: if that many people are coming, they can make themselves useful.  I already raised him; I’m not cleaning up after him as well.

4 Responses to “Bappy Hirthday, Spud”

  1. alienhippy January 15, 2011 at 17:02 #

    I just loved reading this Tilly, I am really giggling here. I used to watch “V” I remember that alien baby.
    I just love the photos of Spud, is he dressed as Vivian from the young ones or just some random punk rocker.
    I might put a link to this post it’s made me giggle so much.
    Love and hugs.
    Lisa. xx 🙂

    Like

    • Tilly Bud January 17, 2011 at 10:31 #

      I’m gald you enjoyed it, Lisa. Smiling is good for the soul.

      Spud dressed like that for a school event back in his primary years.

      Like

  2. vivinfrance January 16, 2011 at 10:26 #

    Spud’s going to hate you for those pix! Many happies, Spud.

    I still shudder at the memory of my son’s fifteenth birthday party even though it was 33 years ago: we turned the garage into a nightclub, provided a small quantity of cider and a lot of lemonade, with minimal food – having been told that his friends don’t eat. Big mistake. Loads of gatecrashers turned up with party packs of beer and goodness knows what else; the goings on are un-publishable here, and the aftermath disgusting.
    We made him and some of his hungover mates clear up next day. Consequently it was his choice to make that the last party he ever had.
    We were in the house the entire time with some neighbours, and the noise and stench were appalling, even with the doors and windows tightly shut.
    YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

    Like

    • Tilly Bud January 17, 2011 at 10:35 #

      He told us he didn’t want a party because everyone brings their own drink, trashes the house, and throws up. He’s a good son but I fear he’s missing out on life 🙂

      Like

I welcome your comments but be warned: I'm menopausal and as likely to snarl as smile. Wine or Maltesers are an acceptable bribe; or a compliment about my youthful looks and cheery disposition will do in a pinch.

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