Bob Dog Turns 5!

It is with great pleasure that I announce the coming of age of the Little Bob Dog. He has, after much fevered anticipation and at least 1 handwritten notification to me, finally turned 5.

Now, according to him, he can do "HAF" of what he wants to do. Because he's almost a big boy.

In keeping with tradition, I took a day off (well, after one meeting and a quick trip to the office to check on work, half a day off) to spend it with the Bob Dog. We took a trip to Vivo City, watched "How To Train a Dragon" in 3D and had a long leisurely lunch at Shin Kushiya where I watched with triumph and great satisfaction as my son guzzled an entirely serving of chawanmushi and asked for more. We have been trying to get him to eat eggs now for ... almost 5 years and, up till now, he has rejected egg in all its forms and incarnations. To be specific, we have tried:

(a) boiled quail's eggs (previously thought to be unrejectable because of their amazing sweetness);
(b) half cooked chicken egg;
(c) chicken egg cooked in Maggi noodles (we were looking to the MSG to drown out any egg flavour)
(d) egg boiled into his rice porridge;
(e) scrambled eggs with ham
(f) egg whites only, boiled into his rice porridge;
(g) steamed egg custard with minced pork and vermicelli
(h) egg mixed into fried rice
(i) just the egg whites off a fried egg, chopped finely and hand-fed with some really good chicken satay.

Anyway, later in the evening, we also gave him a plain chocolate birthday cake and 2 bags of M&Ms and an Archaeopterix (pre-bird/ flying dinosaur) to decorate it with. He enjoyed many, many presents from Daddy and a couple of presents from me, so I think a good time was had by all.

I couldn't help remembering, at various times of the day, exactly what I had been doing at that same time on the day my boy was born. I even remember some of the songs I heard on the radio on the day he was born. Maybe I will do that for every one of his birthdays. Somehow, as I get older and motherer, I remember my children's birthdays so clearly and start to forget my own.