Within the blink of an eye, yet another party is being prepared for. What party animals us Kirks must be. It must be that father of mine, encouraging such wild child behaviour and raucous activity. He leads by example naturally.
Anyway, this is one legendary Kirk event that I do not intend to be present for. I think the boozing/smoking/drugging will be far too hardcore for the likes of moi. It is a fifteenth birthday party after all. A swig of beer (alcohol content= negligible) and the mayhem is sure to ensue. Best I stay out of it and head down the pub I say (more chance of getting myself a drink there too, without those fired up, hormone riddled gannets pilfering it all), making my return only after the house once again looks habitable, the inevitable friction, disapproving looks, and resulting argument with the homeward bound dad is over, and all traces of teenage boy smell, girlish giggles, and inexperienced snoggings are vanquished.
Sigh, they grow up so fast don't they. Those were the days. Cider in the park. Fiddling awkwardly with lighters. Vomiting, dizziness. Fizziness of bacardi breezers. So fleeting are these youthful moments of sheer delight. The excitement of really living.
Thank God I'm past that.