This piece is dedicated to my younger son, who is 25 today. Twenty-five!
So here it goes:
Congratulations and have a wonderful day. I hope you did not jump into the old Rotterdam harbour again last night, once is probably enough for one week! Perhaps you will just continue doing things like that, especially with your English mates: a bit like my fish jumping out of the pond the day before yesterday, you will forever jump into things. Never mind, life is never dull this way. Hope you’re enjoying the Rotterdam jazz festival, had a good celebratory night out last night and that you and your friends got back in one piece (as you know, mums say these things, it makes them feel better and caring and all that….). You probably won’t read this until this afternoon. Anyway, despite the postal strike and therefore not getting a birthday card to you in time, here are our best wishes.
So am I going to let cats out of bags about you as a child, here, publicly on a blog? No, I won’t. I just want to say that it still seems odd that you are back in Holland, having found a job there, after spending the last twelve years or so in England, from being a twelve-year old dropped into an English speaking class, wearing the English school boy outfit, to the student in Leeds and a few years post-student life in Nottingham and London. However, you’re back on old stumping ground now as you were born in Holland, not that far from Rotterdam, and spent your childhood there.
So, here’s to you! Pity we cannot be there. Enjoy the day and having your friends around, we will see you soon in Rotterdam. Happy birthday!