“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthd….”
Oh, no one cares.
It’s official, I am old, past it, in the process of being put out to pasture.
Being 27, I feel ashamed to walk into a shop and buy birthday party food. I don’t look like I have children and so I couldn’t get away with a basket of delicious treats for me and my friends. Instead we would end up with potentially pizza, or a homemade dish that would mainly consist of cheese.
The thing is though, I flippin’ LOVE party rings. I love jelly in the mould of rabbits. I love bowls of sweets and crisps, none of those posh crisps, I am talking multibag own brand.
When we think back to our childhood parties we tend to think of party food and party games. Nothing seemed more invigorating to the paper hat wearing crowd of youngsters than a game of pass the parcel followed by jelly in the shape of animals with cream lavishly poured over the top and a dollop of ice cream.
I miss those days, and so now I am faced with drinking, dancing, having fun with my friends and for what? I don’t even get a lolly pop wrapped in yesterday’s newspaper as a reward.
Then we come onto the cake…
Nothing seemed more amazing when I was a child than a caterpillar cake. This cake was like childhood gold to me, well in my mind it is anyway, I am sure I had one at least once but I can’t remember any of the detail. It was sponge with bits of jam and cream inside covered in chocolate with a smiley face on the front and smarties on top.
Now I have to walk mournfully past this E-number filled delight and trudge to the gourmet cakes covered in truffles and chocolate sprinkles. The whole point of a birthday cake for me is that it should be a designated birthday cake, not a cake with candles in. It’s just, well, it’s just like I am not a child anymore and I resent this.
I work in an office filled with wonderful men and women and so I thought I would canvas them for the two birthday party food items of their choice.
Man A is in his late 20s/early 30s and plays in a band. He chose:
Man B is in his late thirties and is a father. He chose:
Roast sulking pig with nice bread
A massive tower of profiteroles
Woman A is shares her birthday (same day and year) with me and is a singer. She chose:
Cocktail stick hedgehog with cheese bits (but with posh cheese)
Tiny squares of jelly
What this says to me is that I would happily go to any of their birthday parties! In all seriousness though, I think the age we stop enjoying childish delights like party rings is when we have children, or responsibility for children, ourselves.
I want to seize my childhood back from the brink of the abyss because when it’s gone it’s gone and from then my friends, you will be eating olives out of pots, rice wrapped vine leaves and tiramisu by the bucket load. I am not knocking any of these foods but I don’t think their place is at a birthday party, especially MY birthday party.
To end I would like to wish Laura, my friend from work and now life, a very happy birthday! She is two hours older than me and we share a desk.
This post first appeared on the blogzine – The High Tea Cast