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Shameful birthday-forgetting & remembering on January 5 as my own approaches

Tom Winnifrith
Thursday 7 January 2021

It was January 5 and a notice came up on Facebook. And so I remembered. It would have been the 20th Birthday of my morbidly obese three-legged cat Oakley. His Facebook page where devotees could watch him in action is still live even if he is not.

But, at least, last May, we were able to tell Joshua that Oakley, who had gone to live in the jungle, had asked us to look after his two cousins Sian & Quincey who, at that point, were trapped in the cat prison at Birkenhead, aka the RSPCA sanctuary. 

Nonetheless, I wished him a happy birthday. I completely forgot until a day later that it was also the birthday of Darren Atwater, my best man when I married the Mrs and someone who had been Oakley’s carer when needed. I have apologised and, by way of recompense, have resolved to not sack Darren this week as I have done about five times a week for each of the past eight years.

And it will be perfectly acceptable for the man who turned 53 seven days before I reach that milestone to forget my birthday too. As to what to do on the great day? Joshua thinks that I should bake a chocolate cake which, as I diabetic, I cannot eat although he can. That seems a bit pointless to me although my 4-year-old is adamant that it is how all birthdays are celebrated. The Mrs has agreed to fund the purchase of some Georgian candlesticks for the Welsh Hovel as a present. Yeah, I know, sex, drugs and rock and roll, it is all happening up here in North wales.

On the day, which is one that Joshua is not at nursery, I was pondering going for a walk with the family at a lake just over the border among the English infidels. The danger of that is that the local rozzers may view this as a breach of Covid rules and give me a £1,000 fine as a present. But the general view here is that we might, as a family, risk a walk in the open air in an area with almost no people. I guess I had better not alert my neighbours as I am sure some of them would be straight onto the Old Bill to tip them off.

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About Tom Winnifrith
Tom Winnifrith is the editor of When he is not harvesting olives in Greece, he is (planning to) raise goats in Wales.
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