When you work in a school in Essex and it's your birthday, you will hear, “Appy Baaafday!” at least a million times in the day. If you are lucky a small child might even say, “Watcha babe,” as they pass you in a corridor. These are not unusual things. It’s just because of the way people in Essex speak. The teacher in you always wants to correct. “Hah-py Birthday”, “Hello Miss!” but sometimes all you can do is let it wash over you.
I wasn’t looking forward to my birthday. The pressure to be happy, being looked at and making decisions (what do you want to do/eat for your birthday? ) were all beginning to get to me. If I had to be happy, I wasn’t even sure I knew how to do that.
The smallest children in school are working on this at the moment. “What makes you happy?” they were asked. They drew pictures, told teachers and wrote the words with backwards letters and peculiar spelling.
There were the usual answers like Mummy and Daddy, pets but also some food related answers. I’m surprised there weren’t more. Cake, chocolate, biscuits and pizza are the kinds of food that makes me happy. One child said that farts make them happy, which I can also relate to. Not enough people are honest about this.
By the end of the day I had heard Appy Baaarfday so many times that I decided that it was a clear message. It is true, a bath does make me happy. And you have to have your yearly bath on your birthday. People have so many baths these days that we’ve forgotten the simple pleasure of a soak in the tub.
My soak in the bath, with the birthday hippo bath bomb, complete with popping candy was just what I needed.
The evening was spent eating pizza, quizzing, watching Spitting Image (and falling down a Lady Lucan rabbit hole) and unwrapping presents. My family are just the best gift givers.
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