The Party of the Century

We had a big weekend this weekend, folks. On Friday, the little sister turned 18. Christ, that makes me feel old.

We rose bright and early on Friday morning for presents and the traditional birthday breakfast of champions.

Yes, my mum did make me sunshine pancakes on my 22nd birthday last year. That's what love is.

Yes, my mum did make me sunshine pancakes on my 22nd birthday last year. That’s what love is.

Juno got Sophie a disgusting, chewed up bone, because she loves her.

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And then a birthday cuddle.

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And then helped her open the rest of her presents.

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Really, Juno is the best family member. She puts us all to shame.

I wanted to do something pretty special for Sophie’s 18th, so I put a whole lot of thought into her present. I remembered a story that I made up for her when we were kids, wrote it down, made it better and turned it into a book!

Tah-dah! Look, that's my name!

Tah-dah! Look, that’s my name!

This was the moment Sophie realised what it was:

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It was excellent. After a very lazy morning, we were taken out and treated to a fabulous lunch at Jamie’s Italian in Glasgow by this guy:

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Sophs enjoyed her first legal drink:

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And then a few more legal drinks…

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Birthday cake number one arrived, in the unexpected but excellent form of a bread and butter pudding.

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Making a wish!

Making a wish!

And then, since it was a special occasion and we figured we could get away with it, we followed up the bread and butter pudding with the king of all dessert platters.

Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your entire life?

Have you ever seen anything so beautiful in your entire life?

Absolutely stuffed, and with half an hour before we needed to be on a train home, we decided that there was definitely enough time to swing by the Hard Rock Cafe for a cocktail or two.

Our dad is totally a bad influence.

Our dad is totally a bad influence.

At this point, we figured we’d all had a bit too many legal drinks, and decided to slow it down a bit.

No, I’m totally kidding, we went to dad’s place for more champagne and birthday cake number two.

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Champagne from a teapot, because our living room is pretty much a speakeasy.

Champagne from a teapot, because our living room is pretty much a speakeasy.

We all headed back to mum’s to toast the moment that Sophie came into the world with, yes, you guessed it, more champagne.

A completely sober and sensible photograph.

A completely sober and sensible photograph.

The next few hours passed in a hilarious jumble of wriggling into party dresses, dancing to Beyonce and attempting to apply liquid eyeliner while drunk.

Finally, it was party time, and our enormous, mad family started to fill the party paradise that is our kitchen.

Behold my excellent decoration skills.

Behold my excellent decoration skills.

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You may notice that Sophie appears to be in both of the Jaeger photos.

By the time birthday cake number three rolled round, everyone was having a ball.

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We all danced the night away and the party continued until the wee hours in the morning.

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In fact, as far as I know, the celebrations are still raging on, two days later. Happy birthday, gorgeous girl, I know this is going to be your year.

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