As of half seven tomorrow morning I will cease to be a teenager. Never again can I claim to be a teenage delinquent/dirt bag/mutant ninja turtle. I will be 'in my twenties'. This scares me very much.
Birthays gone by
13 - fancy dress, Gareth Gates hair, screeching lady & grim reapers :)
14 - films and party games and shizz
15 - '5th' birthday, pass the parcel, Disney quiz, trip to Mars, etc.
16 - '6th' birthday, tiaras, bouncy castle and party games
17 - Sea Life Centre and Singstar, London with Harry
18 - murder mystery party with the lit lot, Caernarfon Fun Centre
19 - balloons, party tea and a weekend in Cambridge
As you can probably tell from the list above I don't take growing old (or indeed growing up) very seriously. There seems to be a pattern developing: jelly and ice-cream, dressing up, paper streamers, cards with badges, oh, and denying the inevitable and pretending I am ten years younger than I actually am :) Except this year this theory doesn't work so well. A '10th' birthday party isn't so fun. I went swimming on my tenth birthday. I got stuck under a giant float and almost drowned. On second thoughts, why not. It beats lectures and hangovers.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment