This week my wife, Morticia, turned 40. It's been a long preparation with loads of wailing and drama. Prior to the 'actual' big day we visited her mother down in St Neots. On the Sunday morning she got to pilot a light aeroplane (one of her biggest ambitions) and in the afternoon we had a little tea party. The bank holiday was my birthday, which we kept low key (I was happy for that).
The big day wasn't much to speak of, gifts were given and cards were opened. Morticia went out for lunch with a friend. I had planned to treat Morticia to a meal from her favourite restaurant (a takeaway since it was a school night). I hadn't realised that the restaurant's opening hours have changed and it no longer opens on a Tuesday. Disappointment didn't cover it but she was ok about it and suggested an alternative. We drank champagne whilst we ate our KFC.
The biggest event of the day was a text message from our eldest daughter. For those in the know, we haven't had contact with our eldest for almost 2 years so this was a big deal. It was the best present Morticia could have received.
The party, which was held at a local pub (in a private room) was an absolute success. It was well attended by family and friends, Morticia looked fabulous and to top everything our eldest daughter came. It was a sweet reunion, the first time in years the 4 of us have been together.
And of course a party isn't a party unless I get out my legendary air guitar...