We celebrated my nephew’s 15th birthday last night at our local teppanyaki restaurant.
The restaurant is on the wrong side of scruffy, but the kids love it. I’ve lost count of the birthdays we’ve celebrated there.
I really admire my sister for the gathering she organised around that hot plate. My nephew was surrounded by his mum and dad and their second spouses, his new baby brother, his cousins, his maternal grandparents, his paternal grandmother and his Aunty.
A lot of water has flowed under the bridge for us all, but the night was filled with warmth, laughter and chatter, and the more ga-ga among us took turns settling the baby.
We shared favourite memories of our nephew and oohed and aahed as the flames shot up around the beef on the grill.
(My nephew’s dad also recalled my Cosmopolitan years when I asked him to wear a blindfold for a story about feeling fake and real women’s boobs to see if he could tell the difference – my sister kiboshed it – and the time I asked him to pose for a 50 naked men story … He was give permission to do that one and appeared in a national magazine holding a Vegemite jar in front of his privates …)
At the end of the night, shattered eggs thrown at us by the chef lay glistening on the tiles. Bits of fried rice clung to our clothes after being clumsily caught in bowls. Our bellies were filled with yummy food and our cameras were crammed with happy snaps.
It’s a wonderful thing to be able to put love first and sit together celebrating life, love and family.
Good one, sis!