This year I managed to land a conference paper on the same day as Number One Son's birthday party. And that was not all. I was going to swan to Siena to another conference, even if the departure time of 3.45am from St. Margaret's coach station the following morning was less than fun. I had managed to sort out the venue at the end of the stay home after the New Year and check the details during the half-term. We went for the fully organized birthday party in a Wacky Warehouse, so the only things to do were for Archaeologist Husband to take the list of names to the venue and buy a cake and some sweets and two presents for the children to give during the party games. This was a good choice.
There I was apologizing in the conference the lady from whom I managed to have a cigarette in the wine reception that I cannot stay for her talk and left the conference half way during the last day. I had forgotten my mobile phone at home the day before so could not give the registration number of my car to the organisers in order to have guest parking at the university. But luckily the parking is free on Sundays in Leicester! I could leave the car relatively near, so I moved swiftly before lunch. Then it was home, packing Number One Son, Archaeologist Husband and cake in the car and drive to the venue - where we were embarrassingly early.
The main thing for us was to give Number One Son a good party. We had a mix of coffee group children and school friends and their siblings and all seemed to have good time. At least their chins were bright red from playing and running and they scoffed the food after the intensive play. Number One Son had waited for his party for at least for a month and presented over Skype the presents he had made for himself during the earlier part of the week when I had to teach at Stockholm. He insisted of getting a '6' badge on the last day of the school term that was his real birthday. And he carried that badge with pride. If nothing else, Number One Son knows how to party.