Start as you mean to go on

This morning I got up, put on my warmest running gear and jogged down to the beach, running a couple of kilometres in the freezing cold. It was beautiful; the sunrise was glowing off the bottom of clouds, the ocean was a mirror and flocks of ducks would fly up as I ran towards them. Every step of the run I was reminded of how lucky I was to be here.

And then I got home and had fried eggs on toast.

I already received a shirt from my daughters and a pair of trousers from my wife, but I also got a couple of bars of posh chocolate today, two t-shirts (one from Alberta, one from Singapore) and Imploding Kittens, the ever more ridiculous expansion to Exploding Kittens. It was also my friend John’s son Eioin’s first birthday, and he got cool things like a train that fires plastic balls out of its chimney.

We went to an Italian restaurant for lunch. My proudest memories were of Destroyer eating half a margarita pizza on her own, then walking to a Christmas tree and saying both "ball" at a bauble and "tree" at a tree, and later of La Serpiente being berserk like usual. We spent a very long, expensive time in a supermarket-cum-toy shop, where my wife bought me some diabetes-inducing Nanaimo bars in place of a birthday cake, and then we went home to put the kids to bed.

Of course, neither child napped properly, until I gave up and took Destroyer shopping for gin, when of course she tried to go to sleep and I resorted to driving home as fast as I could, playing Black Grape at her to keep her awake. At least our other friends arrived, having made it up to Canada from Seattle with only one passport between the three of them.

Then we had four hours of both kids being mental, before we tried to put them to sleep again. This time La Serpiente slept for an hour then woke up and demanded to be allowed to stay awake and play cards with the adults, and took an hour to get back down again. We played Skulls and Roses and Exploding Kittens and I lost every game, and I’ll be sleeping on the sofa tonight as La Serpiente has stolen my bed.

So, a good preview of the rest of my fortieth year, I suppose. What will happen tomorrow?

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