We've had several young and "not so young" (ahem) family members over from Coleraine in recent days and, before leaving on Tuesday, had the chance to celebrate my eldest sister Jacquie's XXth birthday (she'd kill me).
Afterwards, I explained to Charlotte that 21 April was a special date because not only was it Jacquie's birthday but also the Queen's.
But (and this was where I went wrong) I also pointed out that the Queen had something of an advantage over Auntie Jacquie as Her Maj had a second "official" birthday in June.
Charlotte didn't say much more at the time but at breakfast time today it all kicked off when she too demanded another birthday.
"I'm afraid the rest of us don't get another birthday," I comforted.
"Why not?"
"Because we're not the Queen."
"I want another birthday!"
"Sorry. But anyway, your birthday's still to come. Mummy and me have had ours. Jamie's is coming up. Then it's your turn."
"I want another one!" (stomp, bawl, stomp). You get the idea.
And the wailing went on for some time before I bravely chose to leave it/her to Vanessa whilst I had a shower.
When I re-emerged, all was suddenly calm.
"How did you manage that?!" I enquired of Mrs W.
"I told her she'd have another birthday next year. She thought she was only having one."
Oh.
