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?
