In one hour and one minute it will be my birthday.
As I write this, Georgie is locked away wrapping my presents. He pokes his head out the door when I laugh at the telly and I dare myself to sneak a look at what might be in there.
Now he’s walking into the lounge with a pretty bundle… there are six beautifully wrapped pressies (including three in my favourite Barbie paper). He catches me looking and then grudgingly agrees to rearrange them so I can take a picture.
I love birthdays… especially mine.