IT was Mum About Town’s birthday this week and yes thank you I had a lovely day. I say that, it happened to fall on one of my days off which meant I had the pleasure of my little boy’s company all day, plus his dad’s, being the school holidays and the teacher that he is.

We did truly have a lovely time but if I am honest the day was pretty much spent doing things that the toddler would enjoy rather than his mum. Don’t get me wrong I love a miniature train ride as much as the next kid but given that I am a mature woman I would have thought a spa day and gourmet meal would have been a bit more fitting.

When planning the day it didn’t even cross my mind to do something that didn’t tick all of Ben’s boxes rather than mine because joking aside family days are ace. Clearly that does largely depend on the mood of the youngest member of our party so keeping him sweet generally means that us adults can get on and have a jolly old time too without spending the day nagging, moaning and threatening mortal harm.

On reflection I have to say though that I could have done without his ‘help’ opening my presents too. Anyone who knows me, does recognise that I am a big kid when it comes to presents.

Tearing off the wrapping on birthday and Christmas gifts are a highlight, but this small pleasure was also snatched away by my young son who insisted on doing it for me. I just couldn’t bring myself to snatch it back wailing “It’s mine, it’s mine…get your chubby mits off it”

So he had a great time at my expense.

It’s not like he even appreciated the variety of facial scrubs, clothes vouchers and books I was given. He kind of looked a little bemused at my lack of interesting looking gifts. When his dad pulled out a big box he said: “That’s GOT to be a toy” so was quite crestfallen to discover it was a pair of boots.

Similarly the birthday cake held little surprise as I had made it myself with Ben’s ‘help’ - this extended to him licking the spoon and general mess making but we got there in the end. The inevitable row did come in the evening when he was trying to negotiate another slice. After the fifth refusal he said “Can I just lick it?” Again met with a stern no, but with his last throw of the dice he said, “How about I just hold it?” You can’t blame the boy for trying.