My Husband is another year older today. He's only a paltry 33, but I take great pleasure in playing on his fears that he's 'getting on a bit' and rubbing in the fact that, for a matter of only 6 short days, he's currently five rather than four years older than me.
Earlier this week T and I started a project, a birthday banner to be put up to welcome the birthday boy down to his birthday breakfast (we don't do things by halves in this house). It involved paint and, once T was in bed, scissors, sellotape and frustration.
Half way through the green hand-print session I ran to the kitchen for a cloth. When I returned I asked T whether he'd been eating the paint. He seriously shook his head and proclaimed he absolutely had not ('nooooooooooo') although I'm not sure I believed him.
Anyway, the finished banner looks fantastic. If you look hard you'll see the a in Daddy looks like it's back to front, but that's just a feature of the camera. Honest.