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MY 2nd BIRTHDAY PARTY

Ewan's Blog 2nd Birthday Party

 

 12th February 2017

  

 

EWAN'S BLOG

MY 2nd BIRTHDAY PARTY

 

Hi Ewan here.

Last Sunday 12th February I was given my birthday party, although it is not my birthday until Friday 17th February. So what’s all that about, then. I have a Dad who has a maths degree and a mum who is a teacher and modestly declares she has one or two degrees to her name and they can’t work out the right date for my birthday party.

It was still exciting though, even though the weather was grey and raining and sleeting. No, we couldn’t even muster up some snow. Mum and Dad sorted everything else, venue, cake, invites, party bags you would have thought they could have organised snow.

Anyway the party was at the Burrows at Clumber Park. If someone said to you: “Your Birthday Party will be at the Burrows.” What would you think? Where would you expect it to be?

Exactly, in Peter Rabbit’s Burrow. You would have loads of fun with your friends getting up to the mischief The same as Peter Rabbit gets up to. I had allsorts of plans to play tricks on the Sly Old Mr Fox. And getting “stuck” in a rabbit’s burrow is on my bucket list.

But it was just a cold old shed full of soft play toys, general toys and books. But there was not even the “Peek-A-Boo” book or “The Lion Inside”. Most disappointing.

The other thing was we had to get up when it was nearly dark. This wasn’t to go to nursery, you realise, it was to go out partying and enjoying ourselves. Bizarre.

On Tuesday I look after Grandad. He comes at 7.15am and he lets me sleep until I choose to get up. Usually, at least 10.30am. He’s brilliant. I need my beauty sleep.  But on party day we had to be at Clumber Park at 10.00am. Wow! What an effort.

So we were in what looked like Dad’s garden shed and my mates kept turning up. They all had written invites but I do not know who from. No one asked me to do a list of guest to invite but like it’s only my party.

I noticed some absentee friends, but mum says not to worry that always happens. Bet she forgot to invite them. Like Granny wasn’t there. She would never miss my birthday party. I bet she thinks it is actually on my birthday. Oh, Um, How silly of her. Where’s the logic in that?

My party was a Gruffalo themed party. Do you remember I had to move heaven and earth to get it? Mum and Dad were set on a Thomas the Tank Engine party. Everything was Gruffalo at my party or Ro-Ro as I call him. Gruffalo is such a tough word to say when you are only two, or I will be on Friday. I would have been on my party day if it had been held on my birthday.

The last time I came to Clumber Park I was convinced the Graffalo lived in the Big Dark Wood which surrounds this garden shed. I am sure I saw it in the distance. This time I was definitely not going to miss him.

It was obvious the Gruffalo was going to come and bring all my birthday presents. I could not wait it is the most exciting thing about birthdays apart from the food and setting the cake on fire.

It was the whole reason I had a Gruffalo Themed Party. See my line of thought: Christmas and Santa brings my Christmas presents, Birthday and the Gruffalo brings my birthday presents. Obvious.

There was a buzzer on the door of the shed and every time someone came in or went out it buzzed like an overgrown bee.

Every time the door buzzed, every time a bird sang, every time someone came in, I ran to the door, shouting “Mamma, Mamma.” I don’t know why, because I expected it to be the Gruffalo. I suppose they are similar. Have you seen my Mamma. Her orange eyes, the green wart on the end of her nose and the spikes on her back when she’s wearing her motorbike gear?

But sadly, no Gruffalo came. I know why, though. Because my parents do not have the intelligence to coordinate my party with my actual birthday. So the Gruffalo looks in his diary “Oh 17th February Ewan’s birthday.”

He gets to the Burrows: “Oh strange. The Burrows and no Peter Rabbit, and no Ewan. I must have got the wrong place.”

You would have thought Mum and Dad would have worked that out and after spending all this money they would have pushed the boat out a little bit further and explained the wrong date to the Gruffalo. They could have slipped him a £20 note to nip in the cafe and have an Owl ice cream or scrambled snake or some roast fox or all three.

If they couldn’t get the Gruffalo the Big Bad Mouse would have sufficed.

Grandad told me that when Mum and Auntie Nan-nan were little girls he once hired a full dog suit for one of Auntie Nan-nan’s birthday parties. He could dress up for my birthday as a Gruffalo, although he’s not very tall. I suppose with his stature he could dress up as the Gruffalo Child or more fitting the Big Bad Mouse.

When I realised the Gruffalo was not coming I was feeling neglected and needed to react. A quick drama queen act throwing myself face down on the floor and crying was called for, here. But then I stopped in my tracks, that’s what those parents of mine expect me to do and out of everything I do not like to be predictable. And anyway food was being handed out. Food and cake setting on fire is best things about birthdays.

We all sat at micro tables on micro chairs and ate a micro meal. But guess what: ordinary food. A Gruffalo Party, so what would you expect to eat: Owl ice cream, scrambled snake and roast fox. We got egg sandwiches, cheese sandwiches and crisps! My parents could not organise a Story time in a library. But I ate it anyway I always love my food. Just a minute, is that predictable? Does it matter, I need food.

Once my food was eaten I saw Mum had moved my fantastic Grufalo cake on to another table. I have been to more parties than I’ve had hot dinners. That is a lot of parties even though I’ve not had many hot dinners. But I know the routine with my eyes shut. So I went and sat comfortably in front of the cake, well positioned. Not too close that your hair catches fire but close enough that your wind takes the flame out. Too far a way and you look a wimp because the flame just flickers when you blow.

 Come on kids today is about me. I’m focus of attention. Gather round and sing the song. I’m ready bring it all on.

I love being centre of attention.

Mum lights the candles.

Everyone sings “Happy Birthday dear Ewan”

And cheered and clapped. I clapped in sheer delight.

The cake was burning brightly. My big moment. I took in a deep breath, but stopped. What if I left it burning? Would Fireman Sam have to put it out? But it’s my big moment. If I blow out the fire I will be a hero and everyone will cheer.

Wow. Got it in one. Massive cheer and congratulations all round. Back of the net As satisfying as doing  a big poo.

Ok lets get this cake eaten. Give everyone a party bag. Why don’t I get one? Don’t get that its my birthday and the other kids get the presents.

All the guests brought lots of presents I assumed were for me. But I never saw then again. I think Dad put them on Ebay to pay for my party.

Anyway the party’s over. Everyone goes home. I assume as we are at Clumber Park we are going on a Gruffalo hunt or a Bear Hunt. Don’t care as long as there is food involved.

Bye…Bye.

 

 

When I was a lad at school around 13 years old, our Maths teacher used to call me Wol. At the end of the year as we were moving up a class I plucked up courage to ask why he called me Wol. He told meit was thename of the deslexic owl in Winnie the Pooh. With my Harry Potter glasses he said I looked like the Wise Old Owl in the Winnie the Pooh stories.

 

Being the vain person I am I took it as a compliment

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