Andy's Birthday Countdown

With less than a week to go, I have begun the preparations for Andy's birthday, which is this Monday coming. Andy likes birthdays. He likes cake. He likes presents. What isn't there to like about birthdays? Nothing, as far as Andy is concerned.

A few weeks ago, I said 'What would you like for your birthday, Andy?'
'I don't know,' he said, his eyes lighting up at the thought of sitting down and participating in that most enjoyable of tasks - 'The Making of a Birthday List.'
So he spends a couple of days putting together a list which invariably consists of various books, CDs, DVDs and electronic gaming equipment which have taken his fancy over recent months. Following a minor hiccup a couple of Christmases ago when he put 'Paper Shredder' on his list and was surprised when he actually got a paper shredder, he is more careful about what he asks for these days. (A bit like when I was a child. I wished once to live by the seaside; I ended up in Sheerness. Believe me, if you're going to make a wish, be VERY specific. I have since escaped Sheerness and put in a claim against the Wish Fairy that if she thinks Sheerness is the seaside, then she needs to a) get her eyes tested and b) get out more.)

Anyway, the list remained in Andy's study until I got fed up waiting for it to materialise so I could act upon its contents. So I went and purloined it from the study. Thanks to some tuition I've been doing and the chicken eggs I've been selling, I was able, mostly, to buy his presents with money I had earned myself, rather than what Andy has earned, and would therefore be akin to him buying his own presents with his own money. I still have a problem with not having my own money for present buying purposes. This is something I need to address by getting a small part-time job. But I digress...

I assessed the list. Optimistically, there was a section of Doctor Who cra...er...items which I studiously ignored because I refuse to encourage what I regard as an unhealthy Doctor Who fixation. I have brought him a large radio/ voice controlled Dalek in the past but that is as far as it's gone aside from the occasional book.

So, presents sorted, including a couple of things not on the list just to show I am capable of independent thought, I set about making other plans for 'THE BIG DAY.' I am especially pleased about one thing I have organised which, obviously I cannot divulge now because Andy reads this blog and I don't want to spoil the surprise, but I told the chickens to get their opinions.

'Well, it's not living at Cluckinghen Palace,' says Mrs Miggins. 'There isn't enough room.' Miggo is sitting under the gazebo at the back of the garden, trying her hand at a water colour still-life of some of the radishes she's grown in her raised bed.
'I'm not expecting it to,' I say.
'It's a bit noisy,' she continues. ' Irritatingly so, to my sensitive artistes' ears. And could you move, please? You are blocking my light.'
'It is noisy,' I admit. 'But very entertaining, don't you think?'
Mrs Miggins tilts her head to one side. 'I suppose,' she says. 'If that's the kind of thing that floats your boat. As long as you don't expect us to behave like that.'
'Of course not,' I say. 'This is for Andy's birthday.'
'His birthday? You've got him that for his birthday? Are you sure that's what he wants?' says Miggo. She stares thoughtfully at the aforesaid present. 'I suppose it has a certain je ne sais quoi.'
'I didn't know you spoke French,' I say.
'Do I?' says Miggins.
I wonder how much brush cleaner she's inhaled and leave her to her artistic ramblings.

So, having given a hint of one of Andy's presents knowing it will drive him NUTS for the next few days guessing what it could be, I shall go now and continue my celebration plans.

5 days to go...

And here is Miggo's still-life of her radishes. It's called 'Radish Still-Life.'