Birthday boy

Recently I was talking to a group of young people who have just left school. In a vain effort to add an element of entertainment to what I was saying, I mentioned the changes that we'd been though over the last seven years: I'd gained some weight and lost some hair, I noted, but they were transformed! They'd gone from being little year 7s to become young adults.

Similarly, today I looked at Dan and thought how twelve years ago he was just a helpless baby and now he is this brilliant, charming young man, just on the brink of becoming a teenager. (And, as I have written here before, I'm dreading the fact that in some ways I will 'lose' him over the next few years.)

Tonight, we went for a curry: me, Dan, his mum, Abi and Milly. Plus Charlie and Hannah travelled all the way up from Manchester for the evening, just to surprise Dan. (Only Izzy wasn't there, for the insurmountable reason that she's in Marbella.)

While we were waiting for the poppadoms to arrive, Dan opened his presents. It was wonderful to see him so delighted by all the gifts he'd been given, which is a kind of karmic dividend for the enthusiasm that he shows for so many things; everybody had loads of ideas about what they might give him. (For example, the t-shirt he's wearing was a present from Charlie. Hannah gave him a 'Baker St' sign for his door.)

I took a risk and gave him two books by Arthur C. Clarke that I loved when I was his age: 'The Fountains of Paradise' and 'Childhood's End'. I'm a bit worried that he might find them rather slow but I think it's part of being a parent, to try and share the things that you loved. (Although I am still saddened that of my six children, not one of them loved 'Swallows and Amazons' the way that I did.)