This is a picture of me at Stephen Crozier’s party. Everyone had pixelated faces that day. It made it very difficult.

I was never allowed parties for my friends. Birthdays in the Mumford house were always strictly family only. As a result, they weren’t a great deal of fun. Nobody really likes pickled beetroot.

I’ve never actually had a Birthday Party. Of course, I’m not bitter and it hasn’t given me a massive feeling of resentment towards my parents. Not at all.

Why don’t I organise one for my next birthday?

Hmmm. I’ll think about it.

Better find some friends.

Birthdays