I woke up yesterday morning knowing that some of the most fearless eating would be done on this special day. I sure was terribly excited! I love birthdays because I get to spend time with my favourite people. Being born in June, there’s usually sun and there certainly was plenty of it after a whole month of non-stop rain! I really cannot complain.
My cocktail party is not till early July but I knew that I could sneak in one or two. What is it that I hear you say – calories don’t count on birthdays? Love it; I’ll take your advice on this.
What did the purple girl eat?
I started the day with my usual oats and brown sugar whilst I read my gorgeous birthday card from colleagues. I considered something loaded with sugar as a breakfast option but I just couldn’t face it. Not yet.
A few hours later, my eyes rested on a nearby box of Toblerone from France. I didn’t even hesitate. Two large triangles vanished whilst I chatted to a mum on the phone about potassium.
I am pretty sure that I nibbled on Irish barmbrack which is fruit bread filled with sultanas and mixed peel. It is loaded with sugar thanks to the sultanas and heaven knows what the glycaemic index of this food is, but does one really care on their birthday?
Lunch was quite boring really – vegetable soup. The weather behaved so I got to enjoy this on a rooftop. Heaven.
The afternoon is a bit of a blur. I seem to recall a chocolate biscuit or two! Meetings and plenty of feed manipulation for my children. I was definitely pumping on sugar but continued to buzz about with constant chatter and number crunching. Surprisingly, a very productive day of work after all.
At five o’clock I decided that this had to be cocktail o’clock, but had strict instructions to meet the Frenchman in central London. I was dreaming about cocktails only to be very rudely reminded about exercise as I walked past the large Nike shop. Decided to take a peek as I was early. Mental note to purchase something new later to stay motivated with my running.
Ah the Frenchman arrives. We decided to continue the shopping pre-dinner. The Frenchman wasn’t complaining so I took advantage. I admit it, I ended up in Dior and lingered ‘ga ga’ eyed for a very long time at the counter. There were three irresistible pieces that wrenched at my heart. Surely as the day of indulge, I should do exactly that? Indulge!
Alas! They didn’t have the perfect piece that I was after. Perhaps duty free on Saturday. Or perhaps I should settle for the more appropriately priced ‘Michael Kors’. Tough decisions to be made on a birthday. I talked myself out of an indulgent purchase (or the Frenchman’s purchase for me really) and mulled over it at dinner.
It was a lovely lovely meal of hummus, flat breads, salads, delicious saffron rice and grilled lamb. I didn’t want anything rich; I knew that I had to save myself up for Nice.
I took my distended tummy home to finish the evening with cocktails. One or two was surely allowed? A perfect day...a perfect evening.. But wait, who is this at my door needing to crash after far too many work cocktails without me? My naughty girlfriend.
It’s after midnight and it was no longer my birthday so I decided to let her in. It was lovely to see her. More chatter and laughter and I’m soon dreaming away of Dior and holidays to Nice. Oh I do love birthdays! Don’t you?