Yesterday I reached the age of ‘thrice-21’, which sounds less old than 63. I got lovely simple presents, such as a pair of posh blue walking boots from Daughter (will I ever wear them out at my age?), a modern shirt and after-shave from Son (to try to keep me trendy?), and from Young Lady of the House, a six-CD collection of Scottish comedy and two books of humour (to try to keep me sweet?).
We didn’t go out for a meal, but had a glorious Indian carry-out (good typical Scottish food, then?) and a blether. We are seeing more of both of them just now, and it is great sitting down as four adults without having to tell them to ‘take their elbows off the table’, or ‘don’t gulp your food’, or ‘eat your greens’.
I feel for those with young ones at the table, who have to be fed, or who insist on feeding themselves (or the dog), or who can effectively put food on walls, floor, even ceiling, with a well-placed fist into the middle of a dinner-plate.
Never mind, they do get better….I suppose the next thing is when I become cantankerous and may well end-up emulating the above-mentioned children!
Until then I will try to behave at table and act like a grown-up…..which I suppose I am!