Birthdays are a gift for Middle the philosopher

It’s Youngest’s birthday and she’s scrolling on her phone as we wait for Eldest to arrive for cake. I’m writing this column on my laptop. “Hmmm. People keep putting up horrible photos of me on my page and wishing me happy birthday, which is nice, but...”

Middle, sitting next to her, wrapping her present, has the solution.

“Post on your page ‘if Facebook has to remind you it’s my birthday, don’t bother.’” “No! That’s not very nice,” she says. “Ken. But it’s like Christmas, [please not again, it’s January!]... I tell everyone ‘don’t buy me a present. If you do, you mean nothing, because you don’t listen to me.’”

[I’d butt in here, but obviously I don’t listen.]

“I’ll wait a day to take the worst pictures down so they don’t notice,” she says.

“Nah, you WANT them to notice,” says Middle.

“I don’t. I’m not you.”

“But you don’t want rubbish pictures of you on your page. It’s how YOU feel that’s important. Your generation... what they’re thinking is, this is a good photo of me and Youngest is on it, I’ll post it. I wish I’D had someone to say, ‘don’t worry about it, it’s how you feel that matters.’”

“You did – me!” I say. “But you don’t listen…”

“I was naive. I guess that’s the cycle. I was part of the cycle, now you’re part of the cycle,” he says to Youngest. “And if anyone’s going to break that cycle it’s not going to be me. It’s going to be you. Em... I’ve lost track... anyway, have faith in yourself, be true to yourself,” he says.

“Being true to myself is appreciating my friends, and it’s nice them getting in touch.”

“Post: ‘Thanks for posting on my birthday, thanks for thinking about me, and I’m going to delete that picture ‘cos I don’t like the photo.’”

“Ha, ha, sounds vain,” she says, turning to me, “he’s pretty unaware of human interactions you have to do.”

“True,” says Middle. “Often I haven’t a clue. You’re right, better to just shut your face, let them do what they want.”

He looks at me, “What are you writing? Stop writing.”

Middle Child would like it to be known that he often says things he doesn’t mean, and often means things he doesn’t say, and... n