Birthday Boy

I’d agreed to meet Al at 9 o’clock so there had been no chance of another lie-in. In retrospect, I’m glad of the few hours we had before his train down to London was due to leave. When we’d first been organising my visit (Al was the only person apart from Don and my family who’d known I was coming – mainly because I wanted to make sure that he’d be able to come to London and meet my clubbing fraternity) I’d been unaware that it would be Joshua’s (my nephew) birthday and I’d expected to meet Al in London on this day. He’d booked his train ticket before I’d realised my error and was now going to stay with Steve in Ealing, prior to our big night out on Saturday. As one of my oldest and closest friends (a veteran of many superb camping trips to Scotland with me and Dave), it felt right and proper to spend some quality time with him before the hurly-burly of a big weekend. We enjoyed the sensation of having no work to go to and Al showed me all the latest improvements to the flat he’d bought not long before I’d left. The place had formerly belonged to a slightly grotty old man, with a penchant for deep-fat frying and filterless cigarettes. Where there had previously been yellow walls and filthy carpets, was now pristine emulsion and handsome tile-work. Al’s always been very practical and good with his hands and much of the improvements had been carried out by him alone. I couldn’t help but be impressed and I had a few wistful pangs for the little flat I’d sold in Torquay, the previous summer.
We went into town much earlier than necessary and, as luck would have it (!), discovered that the pubs were open and serving refreshing, cold pints of Stella Artois. Sitting in the peaceful, morning sunshine while the rest of the world went about its workaday business, we allowed ourselves a smile and then a chortle – with the thought of the weekend looming large in our minds. Eventually, it was time for him to jump on the train and, after waving him off, I jumped on the bus up to my sister’s house, where a certain young man was enjoying a birthday party with his friends.
Now I don’t care what anybody says about bias and family ties, Josh is simply the coolest, cutest, most charming and downright lovable little monkey in the whole of Yorkshire. I can’t ever remember seeing him cry (except for perhaps the odd occasion when his food doesn’t get there quick enough)and he virtually always has a huge, happy grin on his face and mostly gurgles with delight at whatever’s taken his fancy at the time. Add to this his undeniable popularity with the ladies (young and old!), an extremely healthy appetite and a robust sense of adventure and I think you’ll find he beats all other contenders into a cocked hat.
I arrived just as final other little guests were being helped out of their coats and I had a fun afternoon playing with toy cars and activity centres (with the kids, of course!) and eating all kinds of little treats (when they’d finished theirs, obviously).

Grandad and the Birthday Boy

In the evening we went, en famille, for a meal at a local Italian restaurant – the very place I’d had my farewell dinner with the family before I left Harrogate in September. The food was as reliably tasty as ever and the waiting staff were quite obviously in love with the young birthday boy from the minute he was wheeled through the door. He really seems to enjoy sitting in his high-chair and trying to share his food by the haphazard method of launching it off the end of a frantically waving spoon. Highlight of the evening was his Birthday Panacotta, complete with sparkler and candle, which he duly gobbled down as fast as he jolly well could. It wasn’t long before bedtime and, with impeccable timing, Dave and Jess turned up just as we were all about to leave. I sauntered off with them for a little carousing until closing time, choosing to save my strength for the main event the following night...

Yes...it's MY cake!


Proud Uncle


Best mate Dave chows down on some pizza