A birthday squared

We’ve held the first of our family’s new series of double birthdays.

The place was the hills north of Madrid, in the home that our grandson Elliott generously shares with his sister Matilda and his parents, Sheena and Nicky. Just as generously, or perhaps I should say graciously, he was sharing his first birthday with Danielle, while his sister, his parents, his uncle Michael and I were all there to join in the celebrations. 

Brand-new one-year-old

This openness to sharing is very much a hallmark of Elliott’s personality. Regular readers of this blog may remember that, a year earlier, he had judiciously delayed his exit from Sheena’s womb just long enough to ensure that the calendar had ticked over to the Danielle’s birthday. By a matter of minutes.

Up till then, as far as the family was concerned, the date was significant only for being Danielle’s birthday. Now it would be his too. Hence the double celebration. 

Birthday pair. One aged one.
The other a little more

On the day itself, I faced a problem. I’ll spare you the details, but the present Danielle had first thought of turned out not to be a good idea after all (OK, since you insist on knowing, it would have been a paddle for the sport she’s taken up with enthusiasm, dragon boating, but it turned out that her club captain wanted everyone rowing with matching paddles anyway, so individual ones were out). 

You’ll be glad to know that she’s since announced that what would be a far better gift would be more items for a different but equally fulfilling pastime, doing water colours of trees, but right then, on the morning of the birthday, I was faced with the painful prospect of showing up empty-handed at the double celebration.

So I’d headed to a local branch of the great up-market department store here in Spain, El Corte Inglés. The biggest such chain in Europe, apparently, and third biggest in the world. That name translates as ‘the English Cut’. It dates from a time when English tailoring was seen as the world’s most elegant, so it may not surprise you to discover that its roots lie in a tailor’s shop founded in the nineteenth century.

Well, an extensive search hadn’t led to my finding anything in this splendiferous store that would meet my needs. It would have been a terrible fiasco to go home with nothing to show for the trip, so I decided to buy some pet products we needed for the dogs (yes, they came for the celebration too). As usual in Corte Inglés stores, that department is in the bowels of the earth, so down I headed. Then, to my joy, as I approached my goal, I saw that the Corte Inglés had a florist as well.

So here was a solution to my problem. An interim solution at least. On the way back from buying chicken strips and poo bags, I stopped at the florist’s. There were two types of roses that struck me as particularly wonderful, so I asked for a dozen.

“Oh, no…” I interrupted myself, “you can’t order a dozen, can you?”

“Oh, but these are roses,” she replied, “an even number of flowers is OK if you’re ordering roses.”

I quickly organised the mortgage to pay for them and she made me up a bouquet. That’s always a delight to watch and, I suppose because it was, after all, the Corte Inglés, she did a particularly masterful job of it. It even included a little sprig stuck to the outside of the wrapping, which Danielle later removed and wore on her dress.

The birthday pair with her interim present

Home I went, the birthday present quandary at least temporarily solved. Thanks to the poodles, as it happens. Not a benefit of dog ownership I think would occur to most people.

Entrance to a magic world,
the realm of the birthday party

Meanwhile, preparations for the main party had gone much more smoothly. There were balloons, there was a door decorated with streamers, there was an excellent cake. We all wore hats, we all sang 'happy birthday', not once but multiple times. There were sparklers on the cake, to make it even more fun. 

Finally, to make sure we got a real party spirit going, the adults drank Cava, the Spanish sparkling wine, and Matilda joined in with a cup of apple juice. She takes great pleasure in a skill she’s mastered recently, of toasting everyone’s health and clinking glasses with them (though, in her case, using a plastic beaker as she does, it’s more of a thud than a clink, but the thought’s the same).

At one, Elliott hasn’t yet mastered that ritual. But it’ll come, it’ll come. 

Something to look forward at future double birthdays.

Matilda got presents too
This one from friends in England, no less