At just gone 6am the silhouette of a slightly bigger girl appeared in our bedroom doorway and woke us with the words “can we go downstairs?”

We both managed a sleepy “Happy Birthday” from the warmth of the duvet.She had forgotten it was her birthday.

A rather more excited voice asked again - “can we go downstairs!”

“Get dressed first, and then we’ll all go down”.

She then began informing her sisters of the obvious reasoning for it -

“We can’t go down yet, Dad needs to switch the lights on and get the camera ready”

“Yeah, Dad always does that”

Who knew that I was so predictable, and that the children rememberthe things we quietly do?

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