I’m slowly starting to come to the conclusion that my sisters and I were raised antisocial. Or maybe just poor practical. While most people would gather up the neighbouring tribes, their donkeys, and their slaves to come and celebrate the special events in their lives, we retreat into our caves and light one little candle to commemorate the event.

Okay, so we have a little bit of food too, at least. I mean, it goes without saying. But minus the monkeys and the fanfare. And even if it means desperately digging into your phone’s old files and email archive for a copy of your passport to prove to the manager that you’re you and it’s actually your birthday just so you can claim a free $50 voucher on the next dine-in, why not?!

Which is exactly what happened on El’s birthday last year when she decided she wanted to spend it grilling wagyu beef at our local Korean BBQ place. A novel experience as we had never been, but the staff were very welcoming as they guided us on the technicalities of putting our selected meat on the hot plate with the use of tongs instead of our fingers.

I don’t know if she wants me to divulge here that she’s pretty much knocking on 40’s door so let’s leave her age out of it. Anyway, it turned out to be a fun girls’ night out — just her, me, and Raven who later declared that she enjoyed the experience and wouldn’t mind going back there again for my birthday.

“It’s like being at the (airport) lounge!” she said, as she inspected the modest range of buffet choices and helping herself to chicken nuggets, rice, and chips.

Thank goodness kids were half-price.

*Raven at 9 years old