When I Turned 19

My first birthday in England was horrible.

I turned 19, started the morning with being shouted at by my au pair mum as I hadn't ironed a shirt she needed. God I remember is so well. I woke up by hearing "the last thing I need in the morning is to iron a bloody shirt!".
I stomped out of bed, past her and into the girls' bedroom and got the shirt I HAD ironed for her. Gave it to her without a word and went back to bed (muttering "happy fucking birthday to me").

Then they left to go to work and school (she always took them in the morning), and I sat in my room and opened the presents I had got from my parents.
I got a hat and some chocolate, and sorry mum and dad, that was pretty rubbish! DARK chocolate as well which I have never liked!
I went downstairs and found a present from my au pair family, a scarf. Feeling incredibly lonely and sorry for myself I put the hat and scarf on, and started cleaning the house wearing my new presents.

It could have ended there, but my lovely Deborah who always brightened my day and made my first few months in England so much easier came knocking on the door.
I opened it, wearing a hat, scarf and washing-up gloves. She just looked at me.

- What are you doing? she said, shaking her head. "It's your birthday! Come on, we are going to Tesco's to buy you a cake!

So we walked over to Tesco's, bought the most chocolaty cake we could find and finished it all. This is now nearly 7 years ago but I remember it so well. And I am still so thankful to Deborah for caring.

Soon I will write about when I turned 20, a birthday that was pretty much the opposite of this.