What do you visualise when you think of your 12th birthday? Clumps of chattering children, surrounding your royal blue, plastic seat; bags full of sugary treats, flying through the fusty classroom air and a glittering blue birthday badge which covers the left side of your torso, may spring to mind. Perhaps, you envision your first drunken stupor at a distant friends house or perking yourself under a tree with a bottle of Vodka in one hand and a cigarette in the other. My point is, there could be about a million and one ways to celebrate your twelfth birthday (one year till adolescence!—*cheers excitedly*)
My twelfth birthday was quite a different picture! It was a wet, overcast Saturday morning and my senses had awoken to the sound of violent vomiting and groaning; dad was sick. After trudging downstairs, with my hands over my ears, I sank into the soft, brown leather and abandoned all thoughts of food—”I can’t eat now!” I thought dejectedly. After waiting for an entire year for this day to arrive, I have to say I was incredibly disappointed when my mother concluded that, because my dad had decided to drink too much wine the night before, all birthday plans had been aborted. The recreational street dance competition, I planned to attend later that evening, could only consist of my mother and the other one hundred stranger who’d come to watch familiar faces dance atrociously across a filthy wooden floor.
I have to say, spending one of my most seemingly memorable days sat on a couch, eating banana’s and baked beans isn’t an ideal way of spending a birthday. Being completely aware that all of your other friends are congregated in a small, pink bedroom, exchanging make-up tips and gossiping about the inexplicable recklessness of “Barry’s new, green Mohawk,” or “Amy’s rendezvous with Josh In the bushes,” is dreadfully heart-breaking but what can one do?
So, that, my friends, is how I spent my twelfth birthday (of course this was some time ago).
I hope this slightly amused you.