i've always loved birthdays, loved the sensation of rolling out of bed on the 25th august with a warm fuzzy tummy wondering what waits for me. when i was little, presents would be laid out on the kitchen counter by my parents after i went to bed, so they would be there when i woke up in the morning no matter what time. i could run downstairs, unlock the kitchen door and pad inside in my slippers to see the gifts lined up like skyscrapers in a happy city. then came the agonising wait... i wasn't allowed to open any cards or presents until the rest of my family woke up. of course, i shook them and held them up to the light and entertained all the possibilities of what could be inside. this time, alone, was my time. yes, it was agonising, but it was oh so wonderful, to be left wallowing in feeling lucky and loved and getting excited about what toys i might get to play with later in the day. birthdays were always magical. family everywhere, tea trays, sandwiches, cakes. my mum was a pro at decorating cakes. one year there was a hedgehog with little half circle chocolate buttons sticking out for spikes. seeing the look on her face at seeing our faces when she brought it out to everyone singing, there's never been anything more wonderful. her happy full-of-love smile all illuminated by the candles on our cakes, with the number of candles matching our age. being a summer baby, i've never had to go to school or university on my birthday and i've since always made sure i've not had to go to work on my birthday either. it's a day i will always take for myself. though if i could only choose one day of celebration, i'd choose christmas. because i'm not really one to like being in the limelight. and it's not as fun unwrapping your presents if you're not watching the rest of your family tear into their own.