Hi, George here. Welcome to my world. Won’t you come on in?

Birthdays are funny old things you never know how they are going to turn out. Other people’s that is, not your own. Uncle Ian’s to be precise. That’s my Uncle Ian, not yours. You may have an Uncle Ian too, but I’m talking my Uncle Ian.

It was his birthday last Monday but for some reason, I think he had to go to work or something more pressing on Monday, so we as a family celebrated it on Sunday.

I say celebrated, but I do use the word loosely. I did not see much celebrating.

I heard Dad talking about having a golf party for him to celebrate his birthday. I thought that sounds good. I like anything to do with a ball: football, rugby, golf. I’m definitely up for some of that.

Yeah, in my dreams I was!

Come Sunday, 12 noon I was all ready, but my Dad and Uncle Ian went off together in Uncle Ian’s car and left me high and dry. I suddenly realised, no golf for me, then.

…And my dad was the one person in the world I thought I could trust.

When Mum goes to have her hair done she doesn’t take me, but that’s understandable. I don’t particularly want to go and you would not believe how stressful it is. To be honest I’ve got enough stress in life without that.

But a game with a ball, I would have enjoyed the chance of a knock about. Dad takes me swimming on a Monday and I thought Dad enjoyed our time together.

But it made me think. I’ve been looking forward to my 18th birthday. I had always imagined Dad saying “Do you fancy a drink down the pub, son?” and me and him having a good old father and son night out.

But his actions on Sunday has made me think on. I’m not so sure he’ll be that loyal, now.

So, I’ve started to wonder whether I ought to be getting out of this relationship before I become too attached. Move on before I become too close to them as parents. You know before they have had chance to do so much for me they can say, “After all we’ve done for you!”

But wait there was more to come.

Mum and Sister Freya went off to a party and Auntie JuJu took Cousin Rory to see Incredibles 2, the movie at the cinema.

Can you believe it? Yes, you can. I couldn’t.

I’ve never been to the cinema. It is my lifelong dream to go. And yes, to see ‘Incredibles 2’.

If I knew what ‘Incredibles 2’is, that is? And just what is the cinema?

Sister Freya says it’s like the theatre where we went to see the pantomime at Christmas. Oh, yes, it is. Sister Freya says it’s like a life size TV screen. But it can’t be bigger than our TV. There is no TV in the world bigger than our TV, Dad just would not allow it.

So, Dad didn’t take me playing golf with him and Uncle Ian. Mum and Sister Freya did not take me to the other birthday party, and Auntie JuJu and Cousin Rory did not take me to the cinema.

Life just could not get any worse, or could it?

Yes, you guessed it, it did, far, far, worse.

Me and Cousin Ewan were left in sole charge, of babysitting and entertain Mamma and Grandad for the whole afternoon. B*******!

That’s all you want on a hot July, summer’s Sunday afternoon.

Cousin Ewan and myself got our heads together to discuss tactics. We deduced that the best thing was to keep Mamma and Grandad active otherwise they, particularly Grandad would sleep all afternoon and that we did not want.

We played football, rugby and a bit of golf, not all with the same ball, we changed the ball for different games, but whether we used the correct ball for the right game, I just do not know. And Grandad just did not have a clue.

We have a mini bouncy castle and Dad left it on the lawn for us to play on. What could be better to keep Grandad occupies? No, not for him to bounce up and down on. He is too old and too heavy and too adult. Mum and Dad say “No!” to him “Read the label, no adults”

But to be honest that’s unfair. I do not think he can read.

Me and Cousin Ewan persuaded him to keep lifting us up in the air and throwing us over the bouncy castle wall into the bouncy castle to bounce on the bouncy castle floor. We then jumped off the bouncy castle and ran to Grandad for him to do it all over again, and again and again.

This activity is brilliant. It not only gives him something to do, it keeps him awake and Mum and Dad will be very grateful when they get in because it tires him out. He will, therefore, fall a sleep when Mum and Dad come home and they will be so grateful that they do not have to listen to his boring conversation.

But it comes at a cost, a cost to us. It is not easy you know doing all this rough and tumble, in fact it is tough. Ok we giggle a lot whilst we are doing it and rush back for more, but that’s just a show we are putting on, we are hurting underneath and put on a brave face for Mamma and Grandad.

Next we kept hiding in Dad’s garden shed. It was so funny the old codgers did not have a clue where we were and began to make up stories to explain our disappearance. Mamme was in real meltdown. I suppose that was better than golf.

After what seemed like weeks they all started dribbling back home. Dad wouldn’t like it if I said he lost at the golf so I won’t tell you.

We then had a Chinese takeaway, Uncle Ian’s birthday tea of choice. I love a Chinese meal. Dad and Auntie JuJu fetched it from… from… I suppose China. It’s where my 2nd cousin JoJo lives, so it can’t be far from Newark. I had my very favourite Chinese, chips and baked beans.

We had a cake for Uncle Ian that Auntie JuJu and Cousin Rory made. They wouldn’t let me help. That was a sore point but we won’t go there. He’s obviously so old that the cake could not hold all the candles or if it did it would have burnt Mum and Dad’s house down, so he just had the numbers. Ironically one of the numbers was No.2 and that is what I am. He may act my age but he’s millions of years older than 2.

The day had not worked out to my expectations from when I got up that morning, but I was too tired to analyse it. And too tired to leave home, as I had planned earlier. I had to give Dad another chance. I could not bring myself to walk out and leave him alone and at the mercy of Mum and Sister Freya. That would be far too selfish of me. You wouldn’t do that to your worst enemy. Then, there was the golf. I felt sorry for him (even though he didn’t take me). The next day he’d need help through it. (That divulges nothing, you need help due to winning as well as losing).

The next day, Monday, was Uncle Ian’s actual birthday. As we had celebrated it, and a little over the top in my mind, I did not give it a second thought on the Monday. We’d done celebrating. But I heard via a little bird on the grapevine that he was none too happy that we’d all ignored the actual day.

At his age he ought to know birthday celebrations for us children and the females of the world go on for days and days, maybe weeks but for blokes you get one day if you are lucky and that was Sunday. He also celebrated on Saturday too. He was expecting far too much. Get real Uncle Ian! Just be grateful.


Bye Bye, George