Growing older is compulsory, growing up is not. As Dozybean is finding out with each passing year. Here she is yesterday celebrating the completion of her twenty first year on the planet with a ladies-what-lunch style affair at the new(ish) cafe at the Art Frame Gallery in Plymouth.
As can be seen Wizzy joined her big sis for a sliver of green salad. For any new readers, Wizzy's on the left, Dozybean is the one with the Paul McCartney hairdo about to break into a chorus of "Love Love Me Do" on the right.
Mrs The Millbrooker and I took the bus across to Dozybean's pad to sing Hippo Birdies Two Ewes at the doorstep before I had to attend to the needs of the great ticket buying public at the railway station. Here's Mrs The Mllbrooker doing one of those elegant birthday things that are a tradition in old aristocratic Cornish families whose lineage goes back to medieval times:
Naturally Reuben was also in on the celebration; Dozybean was incredibly impressed with his particular rendition of Happy Birthday and found that the speedy application of mummy's finger to small gob brought peace back to the proceedings:
I'm given to understand that Reuben also produced a special present just as the meal was nearing its end which required the birthday girl and Nana to rush homeward in search of some cleaning products. Aah, the thoughtfulness of extreme youth. There is photographic evidence of the special birthday chocolate from Reuben, but in the interests of taste and decency (a hallmark of this blog, I'm sure you'll agree), you'll just have to use your imaginations.
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