I turned 58 recently.
It didn’t really go according to plan.
No, that’s not true,
There was no plan that it could go according to.
The birthday dawned and
I felt a bit fluey.
So I took to my bed and that’s where I lay
Lamenting the fact that I felt shit, on my birthday.
I am ambivalent about birthdays. I appreciate that I’m still here but I sure as hell hate getting older.
But on a brighter note, I took some bubbles to school and the kids went crazy chasing them. They called them balloons and when I corrected them, their pronunciation of “bubbles” was totally Mr Bean.