On Tuesday we celebrated my baby sister's twentieth birthday. Twenty! When did that happen?! Friends and family gathered in our garden for a BBQ in true British style..... flash downpours, thunder, 30 people crammed in to a gazebo fit for 10..... and Baby Sister opened her presents with Bruno Mars serenading her quietly in the background.
About every ten seconds she suddenly looked up and exclaimed 'OMG! I'm 20! I'm like really old now. I gritted my teeth trying not to bemoan out load the fact that I turn 31 next month. Old indeed!
Saying that, I remember 20 vividly. I had a ten month old baby who, on the positive side, could melt my insides with one toothy grin, but, on the negative, wasn't really in to the whole sleeping thing. I was about half way through an 18 month language course which meant studying every night and I could regularly be found in the early hours pacing the living room floor flashcards in one hand, grumpy baby in the other. I remember 20 being exhausting. Enlightening but exhausting. Thirty one's not so bad. And I really feel like I'm getting the hang of this adult thing. Better yet, I have an 11 year old...... who sleeps through the night! Yeah, baby! Take THAT, 20!
Happy Birthday Bob Bob. Love you lots like jelly tots.