Where does the time go?

The indoor writer shares the scariest moment of her life:

Frozen in terror hubby and I stared at the alien creature we'd brought home.  On the opposite sofa we'd propped the car seat still containing our son.  He was sleeping.  The bundle was barely recognisable as a baby, outside it was snowing and we'd wrapped him up so well he looked like a miniature Michelin man with a tea cosy for a head.  While he slept all was normal, but when he woke what then?  As virgin parents we clung to each other and hoped that instinct would soon kick-in.  My hubby gripped my hand and whispered: "So what happens now?"

Sixteen years later, today my son is celebrating his birthday.  Later the house will abound with teenagers -  they're having a Skyrim challenge followed by takeout curry.

So where does the time go?  Still not sure we've figured out parenting, but so far it's been (mostly) fun and I'm proud to have such a loving, kind-hearted and generous son.


...Hmm ... so does this mean birthday cake ... do hope it's chocolate!