Birthday part II

In the midst of birthday season, I invited them-what-matters to my house today for a generic birthday celebration. This week because there would have been too many absences last week, the weather was unforgiving and a little because I care a lot more than the boys do. They like presents, who is present is of no matter to them at all.

So we hads ourselves a mini party. In which I fretted about the tidiness of my house, ending up with one unenterable room, (I so need an upstairs) and my family and closest friends visited, bearing - ace - gifts, to be rewarded with poncy tiny versions of food and a party bag.

Yes. A party bag. Children present were mine, a 12 year old and a 1 year old. Everyone got party bags bar he-who-scoffed who then complained. Everyone except the 12 year old, the baby and the scoffer seemed very pleased. We have a surplus of leftover Haribo.

Not a party in terms of there being a lack of music or any form of entertainment or games. More of an "at home". Yah.

I love having people round. It's better than any other type of socialising. Except maybe going out for lunch. Maybe.

Thank you

Well, I don't really know what to say, other than to thank those of you that were kind enough to vote in the most important poll of the year (official Best of 2008(c) statistic). It looked as if a left turn was inevitable but at the last minute a dramatic swing saw the closing result being that I am in fact normal. I didn't expect this at all and as such haven't prepared fully. A tear has formed in the corner of my eye at the sheer votingness of it all.

I can't begin to thank everyone for their involvement in it all but I feel I have to extend thanks to myself for compiling the poll, to me for existing in the first place and especially to the inimitable me for having the sense to buy such a marvellous phone in the first place.

You are all cordially invited to the virtual post poll party. As a virtual party, it can be wherever you like with whoever you like, at any time you like, and you can pretty much do what you want there as long as you have a cracking good time. My own version will have a vague superhero theme so all the men have to dress as Batman and/or wear a tux; we shall drink copious amounts of appelwein and champagne, then make complete tits out of ourselves while dancing voraciously to 80s hits.

For the record: reality has a cold and has the day off.