Happy Birthday to Me

Birthdays are odd things, and I have been silent for a few days. Yesterday I went to the British Museum and spent my day looking at ancient artifacts – always a good way to feel younger – stand in front of something 3600 years old. It was all very nice -but - I am not sure it was magical. I was interested in the Museum, but I forget to put on a silly voice and do impressions of what the statues were saying to each other. I didn't take delight. I saw, I studied, I found things interesting. But I forget to be a child and just enjoy the magic.

The day got me thinking about the birthdays of my childhood and the birthdays of children I know today. Today, and in fact even when my younger brothers were “that age”, a move had been made towards bowling and films for parties. Now it seems not unusal for a whole gaggle of kids to head for the cinema or a fast food outlet to celebrate the passing of another year. The parties become increasingly competitive and who is and isn’t invited a cruel weapon in a war of friendships and who is “in” and who is “out”.

My family was not a rich one, and my mother wisely adopted what is now considered an old fashioned approach. We played musical chairs, and pass the parcel; we ate jelly and ice cream. Even at the age of 13-14. My mother carefully and cleverly spotted that retro held a lot of appeal,and as long as you knew it was a joke you allowed yourself to enjoy it.

I would far prefer to celebrate my child-to-be’s birthdays with childhood games than with tournaments on the wii or even the ever-popular bouncy castle. As ever, though, I wonder how much of what I wish for for my child is about what I wish for me. Maybe I will have a child who will want to spend their birthday staring at the stars, or ice skating, how much will I shape their desires and dreams, and how much will they change my views on the world?

In the next 6-9 weeks I am going to be a father, and as such I have resolved that it is important that I don’t grow up. It's important that I don’t become too responsible and let fun drain out of my life, because if I do, I might give the impression that being an adult means taking life seriously, that play is for young children, and that being an adult is about be respectable and dull. So for my next birthday, I will make sure I have time to skip, and I will have jelly and ice cream for tea.

Yours, older but no wiser,

The Broken Man