Birthday Boys
My son's ninth birthday. Can it really be nine years since that day in Raigmore Hospital in Inverness? I was exhausted, I can tell you. We were in that labour room for hours and Mrs Z looked a tad worn out as well. Understandable, I suppose. Still, the nurses were so kind. They offered me a lovely cup of tea and some buttered toast. Mrs Z wasn't hungry so I had her share too. Ah, the memories.
Fast forward nine years and here's our baby boy with his new BMX bike and wireless Playstation control pad. I'd also bought him a pen which doubles as an FM radio. These listeners of tomorrow, you have to start them young. There was also a great cake in the shape of a Dalek. You pressed a button and it said "exterminate...exterminate". I'm going to sneak that into the next Â鶹¹ÙÍøÊ×Ò³Èë¿Ú Scotland management meeting.
Of course, I was supposed to be at someone else's birthday celebrations tonight. Robbie Shepherd is 70 this year and there was a special concert in Perth to celebrate that and to mark more than 70 years of Scottish dance music on Â鶹¹ÙÍøÊ×Ò³Èë¿Ú radio. I was all set to jump on a train, attend the reception, stay overnight in Perth and then head for a meeting in Edinburgh the next morning.
Somehow all those plans crumbled. The Edinburgh meeting was cancelled and then I got word that there would be no reception after all. Some problem with the venue it seemed. So I called home and told them to save me some of the Dalek cake. Mrs Z reminded me that I was on a diet.
I thought of adopting a robotic voice and screaming "you will obey...you will obey" down the phone.
But I didn't.
Just enjoying my tea and toast now.
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