Today, my dear readers, is a day of importance. Do you know why? Well, the title MIGHT have given it away, but in the off-chance that it hasn’t, I am going to tell you.
Today, my dear readers, marks the 18th anniversary, of the day I was supposed to be born. I know. Not normally worth mentioning, but it is for me, because it also just so happens to be the day that my mum was born. No, she wasn’t born 18 years ago, but she was born back in ye olde times, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth and Finale was still relatively new.
Mum, you were the most important person involved in my creation. You carried me for 9 months and 10 days, roughly, then popped me out like a, like a, well, erm, an, erm, jack-in-a-box, only, thankfully, without being stuffed back in again afterwards! Although, let’s be honest, I do wind you up a bit…
Mum, we may have many a difference between us, but at the end of the day, you’re family and that means a lot to me. To quote a decent comedy film:
“As I’ve learned, staying with my best friend David Langley and his family, families are very important. Even though Mr. Whistler was obviously aware that his mother was a hideous old bat who looked like she’d had a cactus lodged up her backside, he stuck with her, and even took the time to paint this amazing picture of her. And that’s marvellous. It’s not just a painting. It’s a picture of a mad old cow who he thought the world of. Well that’s what I think.”