Forty-something... for the last time

I don't do birthdays. But it looks like that gang did not get the brief... There were home made cards (Finn drew all the candles, all 49 of them - Mimi managed to plant the ultimate ear worm in her card, I have been singing Fat Labrador all day - and Luca opted to portray me as the Stalinian type oppressing dozens of kids, but mostly his. Mrs Raheny cooked her world famous brownies (and thankfully there was no hash in them - this time). And I got tons of messages via SMS, WhatsApp and Viber as well as phone calls. So much so that I am beginning to wonder if I am not harbouring some nasty, lethal thing that everyone else knows about except me... 
Well, anyway, here it is. The last of the forties. They've been the decade for responsible parenting for me (there are at least four people who would beg to differ). 
Next year, I may celebrate properly. By shagging off somewhere I've never been to and having a quiet weekend away.

Thanks a mil all of you. For someone who doesn't do birthdays, I am surprisingly touched.