The birthday present?

A few months ago, while we were shivering in the middle of winter (Wait – we’re still shivering in June over here. Winter weather – minus the snow), I bored regaled you with the story of Sir Pe’s broken bones and the horrific story of his three days waiting for an operation.

Now you might think that – just like Sir Pe’s leg – our two anklebiters were scarred for life by this experience. Do they remember visiting a drugged Sir Pe? (He certainly doesn’t remember our visit!) Do they remember how they carried in balloons and one burst nearly causing a heart attack in an elderly fellow patient? Have they been scarred by the memories of the sick people, the smell of disinfectant and bed pans, the rustle of nurses’ uniforms as they were told off for running and laughing in the corridor? (The kids, that is, not the nurses…)

I don’t think so. You see, today is Sir Pe’s birthday and last night I was talking to the anklebiters about going out this evening for a tasty unburnt meal to celebrate. I was thinking somewhere a little special…

So were the kids!

“Can we go to the hospital and eat pancakes there?” they asked all excited.

Because they still remember with fondness just how good those pancakes in the hospital restaurant tasted.

Happy birthday, darling – and here’s a plateful of hospital food to celebrate!