Just in case you’re worried that he’s a desperate attention whore I must point out that he didn’t write this one.

My first memory of Gareth is tinged with the pungent aroma of crap in a confined space. My father, brother, and I had gone to a telephone box to phone the hospital to see if there was any news. This was before the days when new fathers are expected to bite through the umbilical cord as an act of bonding. As the good tidings came through my brother decided to fill his trousers. I know he won’t mind me saying this because…

a, he was only two at the time, and
b, he never visits this site.

From that unusual introduction I have watched him grow into person he is today; older, wiser, but still with that vague dungy smell in the background.

Please feel free to use the comments to pass on your birthday wishes. Remember, it’s cheaper than a card and you don’t have to put a fiver in it.

 
I said we shouldn’t have put all those candles on…