How did I get here

Who knew that a Christmas meal with the sixth form lads would end with the birth of my gorgeous niece! First and last drunken birth you'll be pleased to note.

My poor lush self wanted to sleep but my sister was in labour and the Country Awards were on the television. (Remember the world of only four channels.  It was the only thing on).  With every contraction my sister squeezed my hand.  No alcohol fuelled sleep for me then. My first ride in an ambulance was surreal.  My head was lightly banging but it seemed churlish to comment when my sister was in so much more pain.  I called her boyfriend and, as the hospital had a one support partner policy, waited outside for news of the birth.

She was the first newborn I had ever seen or held.  For me, it was love at first sight.  Big brown eyes and a tongue that was continually poking out.  A frog princess.  My sister wasn't impressed with that description.  I asked her about her memories of the birth.  Her response: "It hurt!  You were pissed!"

My beautiful niece and her son