A Sweet Sweet 16

Emma turned 16 on Tuesday. For some time, she has been concerned that she would spend this milestone birthday in the UK, away from all her friends at home. February is a challenging month in which to have a birthday anyway because the party options are a bit more limited than for a summer birthday. Usually we manage with some kind of sleepover party at our house that usually involves ice skating and fondue and piles of pillows and blankets in our family room. None of that was going to happen here, obviously, so we got Emma involved early on in coming up with a Scottish substitute.

Initially she decided she wanted a fondue party at home. Despite his deep hatred of fondue (“I’m not going to pay that much money for food that isn’t even cooked!”) David managed to locate an electric fondue pot at one of his beloved charity shops on South Street, and brought it home. Emma liked this idea, but when we started to plan the menu she decided that finding things to “fondue” might be a challenge here (Scotch eggs in hot oil, anyone?), so she gave up on that idea. Her second favorite culinary experience is Indian food, and the UK has that in spades. So, we made a reservation for an early dinner at one of the better-regarded spots in town, and one that offers a set menu. A birthday cake was going to present a second problem, though, because we couldn’t bake one at home. Not only does our rental kitchen provide only the very basic kitchen elements (no stand mixer here!), but the oven is completely sub-par. The markings on the face of the oven that indicate temperature are all worn off, so the only real options to control the thing are “on” and “off.” That’s barely workable for heating up a take-away pizza—it’s definitely not going to work for home baking. Emma and I had checked out a few local bakeries for options, and even searched all the local grocery stores for some store-baked cake layers that we could assemble into a birthday cake, but she just didn’t like any of the options. Finally, we decided to scrap the whole idea and just go out for ice cream instead!

The day of her birthday was wickedly windy, so our plans to walk to the restaurant were dashed. Instead we picked Leah up from her nursery and then just drove into town. It felt lazy, until we exited the car and nearly lost Emma’s umbrella in the first gale that came by. The restaurant was surprisingly packed for 5:30, which I found a little disappointing because I didn’t want to have to continuously shush Leah’s singing and tapping-a-glass-with-a-knife-repeatedly so closely. Luckily there was a huge fish tank above our table so that helped to tide her over until a huge plate of poppadum arrived to keep her busy. We managed to eat quickly, and in fact there was so much food brought to our table that we had to take most of it home anyway. Then we drove one block over (yes, crazy I know!) to the ice cream spot. Here Leah was no problem of course, and as long as we stayed on top of the drips coming out of the bottom of her cone, we had no problem.

We went home to open presents after the ice cream. Again, this part of the birthday celebration posed a challenge because we didn’t want to get her anything that was too big to take home at the end of the semester. She had chosen a stack of books, and had asked for a big fuzzy blanket because she was missing her collection from home. In addition, we bought her a tiny bottle of Marc Jacobs perfume that would fit in her suitcase, and a small bag from Cath Kidston (it’s a British thing…)that was made out of the same patterned fabric as the curtains in her bedroom here. Her big present was a surprise as well, and one that doesn’t have to be packed in a suitcase: we told her we would take her to Paris in April, when her school has a short break. Emma and I will go alone and stay with Leah’s godmother who is living in Paris for the spring. John was quite put out at this, since Emma has been to Paris recently with us and he has not. I tried to make him feel better by pointing out that our trip was going to consist entirely of garden visits, café lunches and shopping. I do feel bad that he’s feeling a bit jealous, and later in the evening I reminded Emma that one of her requested gifts hadn’t been delivered to the house yet, and John said, “She still has another gift coming? What is it…a trip to Morocco?”

Despite John’s disappointment, it was a lovely birthday and Emma was truly thankful and happy at the end of the night….which is a rare combination in a teenager!