It was my eldest’s birthday recently and all it left me wondering is how come it’s not me getting the presents and being celebrated?
As far as I can remember, it was me putting in the graft that night, eight years ago. Driving to the hospital, getting the cups of tea, manfully not complaining that much as my hand got squeezed in a vice-like grip amid the contractions. Admittedly, her mum did her fair share, too.
And yet, despite this, tradition dictates that it’s the birthee that gets toasted each year. Weird. Anyway – as tradition also dictates, we had a party for her and my main question is: IT COSTS HOW MUCH?
When did a child’s birthday become quite such a “thing”? I don’t just mean the expense, either. But how did the anniversary of them barrelling out into the world also come to require the kind of planning and strategic forethought I imagine goes into a minor music festival? And when exactly did it become expected that there should be – for instance – bespoke activity packages, professional balloon installations, personalised invites, hired face-painters, exclusive venue access and specially created WhatsApp groups?
My six-year-old asked – completely seriously – if we can close the street off with a bouncy castle for her birthday, because a kid in her class did it. How can I put this, kiddo? I’m sorry, I just don’t love you enough to do that. Another child took eight friends for a full day at a spa for her seventh birthday.
