Forty (Me, in NZ)

My Dad pushed the roll of paper across the floor in the hallway, the brown sausage unravelling as it picked up speed before hitting the wall. “OK,” he said, looking across at me and my brother. “What are we writing on it?” “Happy 40th birthday Mum!” we shouted. “With a BIG four-zero!” Black marker pensContinue reading “Forty (Me, in NZ)”