Putting the party on hold ...
Cast your mind back, can you remember what you did for your 18th birthday? Yeah I know, it’s a long time ago.
Might be easier to recall who was Prime Minister at the time.
Chances are you’ll have spent it with your friends, drinking heavily.
Buying your first “legal” glass of something nice, which loses every ounce of its illicit thrill the moment the barman checks your ID and says: “Okay then, what can I get you?”
Drinking is like a chippy tea. Once you’ve had a few chips, the magic’s gone and they all taste like deep fried potatoes and you hoover up the rest just because they’re there.
Same goes for drinking, I’m afraid.
Once you’ve knocked the edge off, the joy evaporates and you’re just pouring it down your throat until you reach your fill level.
Anyway, spare a thought for daughter #2 who turns 18 this weekend and will be spending it on lockdown, at home with her mum, dad and sister (although we might have to count the dog and two cats just to get the numbers up).
We have done our very best to make the day as special as possible and have a few tricks up our sleeve, although even we can’t recreate the special atmosphere of a provincial nightclub at 4am.
It would be pretty difficult anyway, not having seen the inside of one since the end of a boozy works night out in 2004 and vowing never to set foot in one ever again after yelling “What?” down a workmate’s ear for an hour, plus the fact we were literally twice the age of just about everyone else in there.
Once the bars and clubs are open again (and what a magical day that will be, my friend), daughter #2 can go out as often as she likes with whoever she likes.
But for her milestone birthday, she has to make do with, in her eyes at least, the most boring people in the world – her 50-year-old mum and dad, and her 20-year-old big sister who is waaay more exciting than us.
Anyway, happy 18th birthday, Sweet Pea. Put it this way, you’ll never forget it.