one insomniac coughing fit so energetic I blew out an eardrum (brills)
two naps, three boxes of chocolate, four new books (better)
one cafe breakfast and a bottle of the best French lemonade we ever had
one birthday cake made from piled-up scones-and-cream-and-jam
and one boy in tractor wellies, one boy popping the buttons off my coat, and one boy holding my hand under the table.
I’ve never had a birthday where I felt worse and enjoyed myself more. Seriously, these boys. They make my twenty-eight.
(I would also really like to be in bed at this point, but I’ve got another fifteen minutes till my next bout of cold medicine. So, like, a million photos? Yep, good idea.)