Ahhh 26. It’s true what they say – hangovers get worse the older you get. Sunday morning arrived with birthday festivities and a nice dose of paracetamol, a gallon of H2O and the promise of a more hearty breakfast than yesterday’s – all to chase away my aching head and furry feeling mouth (damn you daiquiri!!).
Firstly though, I shall share with you the birthday balloon and bouquet which were delivered to my work on Friday by my well trained boyfriend.
He obviously know how’s to play this relationship game and started the weekend as he meant to go on.
And go on he did…I was handed a bucks fizz in bed and a magazine to read while he ‘prepped’ breakfast in the kitchen. I had a full fry up complete with grilled tomatoes (this is how you do it Hoi Polloi) followed by croissants and nutella mmmmm.
Anyway still a bit bleary eyed I was finally handed my presents and card to open!!!
Unfortunately he meant this in the literal sense, ‘you’re old and you fart’ – I assured him of the following…
1. 26 is not old, especially when you turn 30 in June.
I don’t think he bought it though.
Anyway onto the presents…
The boy got me Louboutins. Christian mother-effing Louboutins. I couldn’t believe it when I took off the (amazing) wrapping paper. But if I’m being perfectly honest, this particular pair aren’t quite quite my bag. I know I sounds like a horribly ungrateful girlfriend – I’m really not – I just think if he’s going to splash out on some super expensive shoes I should be in love with them not just like them. The patent is good, the nude is good it’s just the round toe. It’s very Kate Middleton and a the Duchess of Cambridge I am not.
So we made plans to head to Selfridges and do a lil exchange…
Sadly they didn’t have the ones I wanted (Ummm do you not know it’s MY birthday), so for now I am louboutinless again. But fear not as soon as I can track down the beauties that my little feet deserve I will have them and parade those red soles wherever I can.