The Baby Boy was 21 yesterday. 21 years since he was born, weighing in at a mighty 10lb and 1/2oz. With a broken collar bone, fractured skull, paralysed arm, cephal haematoma, and his mother, yours truly, torn to shreds. Ah well. 21 years and much joy and heartache have passed. Some family and friends arrived at 6pm last night to help him celebrate both the day of birth and his degree award. He has earned a First in his History degree (award ceremony shortly). We are all delighted, proud and generally chuffed to bits.
The evening began in a very civilised manner.
And then the water pistols came out......
And it became a celebration of two halves, the dry and the not-so-dry running around the garden.
However, the ladies began to experience some alarm. The 'dry' area showed evidence of water ingress
Even the baby Doctors could not resist the temptation of a fully loaded water canon
Conditions rapidly deteriorated. Small children began to resemble drowned rats
Older guests maintained a calm and philosophical outlook in spite of random watery accidents
Old people within the 'guaranteed dry area' began to cheat - firing at will through the porch windows
Even older people (who were trying to raid the wine stores) suffered remorseless assault, and had to retire to guaranteed dry area for safety (without any raided wine I might add).
Things began to look grim for the dry guests
Luckily, refreshments were in plentiful supply in the dry areas
A wet juvenile attacker, temporarily disarmed to rest his trigger finger...........
A young drowned rat. Happily she seemed none the worse for wear even at 10pm.....
Old people begin to take possession of armaments and show the soaked youngsters how it's done
The dry area now completely annexed by 'old people who should know better'
Beneath this cardboard box is a child, tired, soaking wet, and attempting to find the safety of a vehicle to carry her home.
Old people who should know better, drunk, exhausted, garrulous and needing to be put to bed
The young men then retired to the very bottom of the farmyard clutching a multitude of beer cans to play some kind of drinking game. They returned, in pretty good condition considering everything, at 1am to consume all edibles remaining in the kitchen and then to retire en masse all around the house.
This morning saw them all rally to the cause and reignite their celebratory demeanor with further energetic games and trials. I, however, am completely zonked! Baby Boy has now motored off to Leicester for a few days and then he is being taken on a mystery holiday by the lovely D as a surprise gift. He recommences work in two weeks, which will be something of a relief.
The Big Boy has phoned from China twice in the past few days. He is eating, communicating (courtesy of some sort of phone app) and enjoying the cultural contrasts. We look forward (very much) to welcoming him back to these shores. He is much missed.
Having restored order to the garden and house today I am shattered, and now considering the luxury of a nap. So, thanks for reading, I'm signing off to see whether the bed is still comfy...
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