Sometimes you're the pigeon

But today I was the statue.

And it's my birthday.

When there were no birthday greetings from the kids this morning, and no email from Mr B I was a little perplexed.

Then, when I'd woken up a bit I realised that they must have some scheme for later, and they're making me think they've forgotten so the lovely surprise will be even lovelier, the scamps.

At lunchtime I remembered that my kids are no good at poker faces, and that all my family had, in fact, forgotten my birthday.

So, I relaunched my day with a pot of tea so fabulously strong that I may never sleep again, and settled down with the last two cookies (which I would obviously normally leave for the kids) to open the presents collected at the weekend from my lovely friends.

Then off on my birthday to dutifully collect Mr B from the airport, and deliver some notes (hastily written in bad French) to TallGirl's friends to ask for help with a surprise for her.

Now, I am hiding from the world with a glass of fizz while Mr B cooks me a curry.

Next year I will issue frequent reminders....