I'm not big on birthdays. Ever since I hit my teenage years, the thought of having to make sure a group of people were all having a good time just filled me with dread. I don't like spending too much time in large groups, I don't really like having people in my house, and I certainly don't like to be the centre of attention. But maybe the real reason I stopped enjoying birthdays is because nothing can beat the birthdays of my childhood.
I'm on about the ages of around four years old until ten. When everything is a little bit magical and a lot exciting. I've had teddy bear's picnics, pass the parcel and bouncy castles, trips to Paultons Park and rides along the cliff tops in a limousine (hello 11th birthday).
I'm fortunate enough to have my birthday in May, and even luckier that almost every year has been good weather. This means pretty much every birthday has been some kind of outdoors event. I think one of my favourite birthdays was the time a fairy came to visit. I was 6. My mum warned me that she might have to use a growth spell so she'd be big enough for us all to see. So I set up my favourite chair for her, put on my fairy wings and waited patiently.
She was a lot taller than I'd expected, adult size in fact, but at the age of 6 that's the kind of minor detail you can let slip. After all, there was a real fairy in my garden!
I'm still not convinced birthdays after the age of 10 can be that magical, but this year I'm heading to Disneyland paris over my birthday, so I think we'll let this year be an exception. Spending my 22nd birthday in my favourite place, I couldn't really ask for much more.