Yesterday was Rob's birthday. I know everyone thinks he is the same age or younger than me because of his youthful good looks, but no, he is in fact 5 years older than me - d'ya hear me - FIVE YEARS - that makes him 43. The day began as the coldest day in November history since 1905. Winds howled and storm clouds brewed. Scarlett was booked into nursery as usual for Thursday and I had taken the day off work to spend with Rob. Unfortunately almost before the day had begun, I received a phone call informing me my planned birthday present had to be cancelled due to bad weather. I had arranged months ago for Rob to have a flying lesson, a lesson that would see him eventually take the controls on a flight over Sydney. Bummer. Thankfully I had also bought him a webcam and some handmade chocolates. Instead, we headed for Westfield Bondi, a giant shopping mall, so I could spend money on Rob and generally act as a servant and bag carrier as is traditional in our marriage on birthdays. A highlight was Rob trying on what he thought were a pair of black flares but ended up channeling Marcel Marceaux. Then we headed back to Leichhardt to the movies to watch The Prestige. A very clever film from the writer/director of Memento and Insomnia, full of clues and twists that keeps you guessing until the end. Last night with Scarlett fully unconscious we headed out to dinner at a new French place round the corner that recently earned an excellent review and score by our restaurant reviewer. We had a fantastic dinner with 5 friends and finally fell into bed at midnight - Rob very very drunk.
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