Can't believe it. Where have the years gone?!
Apparently I was a bit of a surprise. My parents were told they couldn't have kids. Then it happened and, on 14th February 1981, I was born, the first of three. If the story's to be believed, Dad didn't hear the tannoy telling him he needed to get to the hospital. Instead, his foreman had to go and get him and tell him to get himself to the hospital pronto.
Dad and I haven't always seen eye to eye (quite literally, as I'm a lot smaller!). Our arguments when I was a teenager were legendary and are still talked about today. But, over the years, we've both mellowed and come to have a mutual appreciation of many things (a good piece of engineering, a fine wine, a bloody good football match).
So many things about Dad never fail to impress me. The way he stands up to what's right, even if it's not the opinion of everyone else. His work ethic. His ability to be able to fix anything. The way he can plan something to within an inch of its life and, when everyone else doubts him, the way it all pulls together. There's so many things I could list and I'm sure I'll keep discovering them.
Happy birthday, Dad! Here's to the next 10 years!