Thanks for all the birthday wishes everybody. To paraphrase one of my favourite authors,’ A frabjous day. Callooh! Callay! I chortled in my joy.’ (L. Carroll)
Unice came round yesterday to ask what all the noise was about. She said it had kept her out of her sleep. Dad said,’ Great!’ and closed the door. Sometimes he makes me feel proud of him. Then the phone rang and it was Unice again who said she was going to call the police. Either she didn’t call them (very unlikely) or there was not much the police could do (very likely) as we haven’t seen them so far. I guess they’ve got Caller ID.
Mr Bent came over this evening. Mum did invite him to the party last Saturday, but – being Mr Bent – he more or less declined. If I were him I would have done the same. Mum saved a piece of pie for him. I asked her to save a piece with a candle on it and so she did. She even saved a big piece for me, but I asked her to cut it in half, because then it’s only half the calories. You know I am still on my diet. Besides, when it’s only half the calories, I can eat twice as much. It’s a win/win situation.
By the way, Mr Bent won the prize. I don’t know if you remember, but the birthday decorations said I turned 14 while I actually turned 15 today. We had not removed all of the decorations yet, because we wanted to wait after today. Mum and Dad were a bit embarrassed they hadn’t noticed it, not even after three days. They probably won’t forget that I’m turning 16 next year. Maybe I could do without the decorations then, they seemed a bit childish this year, especially with Grandma doing her striptease act on the kitchen table. That was quite a contrast. I gave Mr Bent the other half of my piece of pie as a prize. He got me all sorts of guitar books (see picture). If he’s into these bands, he’s got quite a good taste for music.Ron D. – the walking Wikipedia Encyclopaedia at school – reminded the class of the fact that today was my birthday and so everybody started singing. I wish they hadn’t done that. Even though I liked the gesture, it was completely out of tune, some of the kids had no rhythm and Mrs Hoover nearly lost her dentures. A woman her age shouldn’t be allowed to teach anymore, or to sing for that matter. Though she’s a lovely woman, she’s falling apart. She’s 64 and looks 78. Don’t ask me how she’s done that, I don’t think anybody’s interested in her little secret. Coincidentally her first name is Victoria; so us pupils have started calling it Victoria’s Secret (please, don’t tell her that).
Evelyn gave me a big birthday kiss at school this morning. I turned red, but it was really cute. I think we’re a cute couple. Mum and Dad said she was really pretty. Dad was really impressed, I could tell. He hadn’t expected that … me neither. I’m going to do my best to hold on to her for as long as I can. That’s it for now, because we’re about to get rid of the last birthday decorations. See me tomorrow.