Honestly, I understand the sentiment, but what was the hotel thinking when they put a 20cm sparkler on my birthday cake? At midnight on Friday, my husband almost set the bed on fire, and no, I am not talking dirty on my blog. I mean literally, as in potential flames with smoke. Just back in our hotel room after a lovely bistro dinner, he lit the sparkler and it started spitting out sparks (erm, that’s what it is supposed to do, we realise that). Thankfully, Z quickly moved it to the table, averting a fire. Since we were too busy laughing our arses off, I forgot to make a wish, but the important bit is that we both ate a large chunk of that sludgy, dark chocolate cake with sweet, tart raspberry compote on the side. And that’s how our less-than-48hour-weekend began. [Read more...]
