|Happy Birthday dear The G, Happy Birthday to you......|
Being born on March 30th does not - as a general rule - tend to entitle one to spend birthdays on the beach.
But thanks to the freakish conditions here right now, The G managed to do just that for the first (and, I suspect, the last) time this afternoon.
Turning three can be an eventful business: Scoffing ice cream alongside Mummy, The B and myself on the sand; gifts galore, a little garden time, history's largest-ever tea and endless Peppa Pig-related goodies.
These included an enormous soft Peppa toy, that is at least as big as The G, if not a little larger, Peppa greetings cards and badges, paper plates and cups and a 12-disc DVD collection that promises to keep us going for the foreseeable future.
That exhaustion kicked in just before The B&G's regular bath time (the excitement had been unbridled since 6.30am, her earlier-than-normal awakening not ideal, but just about acceptable) came as no surprise.
Yawning through another Peppa episode, she said, almost to herself, 'I like birthdays'.
Job done, I reckon . . . .