Happy - ish Birthday To You

I take a lot for granted – that daylight will follow nightime, that my kids think I’m clueless and embarrassing, and that British footballers will always play the game as if they have arthritis, their shoe laces tied together, and gold bullion hidden in their boots.

But, if I was in danger of taking good luck for granted I had a wake up call this week all, unfortunately, at my daughter’s expense.

Yesterday was the day before her 18th birthday. (I know, you are about to say I look too young aren’t you? Er, aren’t you? Please, take your time.) So what could go wrong?

Well, for starters we had a complete electricity cut for the whole day after a stupid neighbour employed cowboy labourers to erect a post outside his house. They drilled down through a power cable and left the whole street without electricity till night fall. No hot water for showers means, to a teenage birthday girl, the equivalent of no oxygen, light, heat or life. It’s a disaster. Forget the no electric kettle for cups of tea, no TV or lights, no cooking or microwave, a total lack of computer action, silent radio and a perfect excuse not to shave. Actually that last bit was good if I’m honest. It may be a disaster for teenage legs but for dads it’s heaven sent. I suppose even hell might have a corner away from the fire that has an ice cream van.

But, being a paid up snob, I had one extra problem that the other neighbours didn’t experience. The gates to my house are electric so, although I could climb over them with a bit of care and effort, I couldn’t get my car out. This, on the day Debbie had organised to take our daughters and her mum to The Ritz for afternoon tea as a pre birthday celebration. As you do.

Seriously, the Ritz was meant to be a day my daughter would remember forever. I’d promised to drop everyone off then motor on to pick up some special surprise helium balloons before driving to do my radio show. So what to do? Kindly, a neighbour drove them to the station after they scaled our gates with stiletto heels, and I took a taxi for the rest of the day. The birthday surprise was saved in the end but at the cost of a few rips in dresses which appeared after the gate climbing.

I know the stupid neighbour who booked these cheap workers didn’t check if they have insurance, and I also know they won’t even know what insurance is, so do I go to the guy and ask him to pay me back for the cab journeys, the wasted food in our freezers, and the dress repairs? Or am I being mean? Do you think he’s likely to pay up?

With one disaster out of the way the actual birthday today had to go without a hitch, didn’t it? Well almost.

We hired a boat as a surprise, complete with champagne and banners, and the whole family set off up the Thames. Within two minutes the engine broke down and we drifted aimlessly until another boat came to our rescue. Our hour on the river consisted of us being towed up and down with one of our party dangling over the front to keep the rope taught.

Annalie tells me the disasters ensured she won’t forget her 18th in a hurry, which is kind of her. Once I get hold of my neighbour and the boat owner I doubt if they’ll forget either.