I love my birthday. Continuing my quest to maintain my childlike demeanour, I like to look on the annual celebration of getting older as an excuse to rekindle a little more of my ever-fading youth. Whether it be holding a Disney themed fancy dress party, or dragging all of my dearest friends into the woods for a giant game of hide-and-seek, my quest for eternal youth through the quite trivial yearly ritual always leads me on some bizarre adventure or another.
This year has been no different. Indeed, as I rapidly approach the end of my late twenties, I have had arguably one of the most childish weekends of my last two decades.
Kicking off with a trip to London on Saturday, courtesy of my father-in-law-to-be, I spent the morning in Hamleys toy store, the largest toy shop in the world, and a place that never fails to fill me with the utmost joy. Spanning seven floors, Hamleys houses every kind of plaything one could imagine, and even more that one could never imagine in the wildest of dreams. Staffed by a motley crew of magicians and toy enthusiasts, Hamleys is like a real life Wonka factory, and although at least half of our visit was spent admiring the intricate Lego sculptures, I still find myself feeling like I did at age six when my parents would take me out for the pre-Christmas shopping spree.
After a trip down the river of chocolate, I received another piece of my childhood; a box of Lucky Charms from one of my dearest friends, a cereal that I have not eaten since primary school, since it was banned in the UK for having more sugar than the unhealthiest of desserts.
After the mandatory trip to Hard Rock Cafe, wherein I was treated to a free birthday boy sundae and a highly embarrassing (yet somehow satisfying) musical rendition, we returned home. Thereafter, my other childhood obsession was indulged with a trip to the cinema to see none other than the new Muppets movie.
Now, despite my lifelong love of the Muppets, it dawned on me this evening that I have not actually seen a Muppets movie at the pictures since The Muppet Christmas Carol in 1992. After their last outing, however, I had high hopes for Muppets Most Wanted, our fuzzy friends' latest global escapade. In 2011, The Muppets shone as a heartwarming yet hilarious addition to the Henson legacy. Alas, for me at least, Most Wanted was something of a disappointment. Funny, yes, but lacking in story, in music and most importantly, in Muppets. When writing a Muppet movie, one needs to balance between the calvacade of characters that we so dearly love. Unfortunately, this time round, the only characters to get more than a line (and flippant words of agreement at that) are Kermit, Piggy, Fozzie and Kermit's evil doppelgänger Constantine. Ironically, Rizzo the Rat (in his only line) sums it up beautifully when he points out that favourite characters aren't getting a word in edge ways. It's a shame, as the opening number brought so much promise, only for it to be pasted over with a Ricky Gervais coloured wallpaper. And if I wanted to watch him being dull for an hour and a half, I'd rent Ghost Town again.
So that was this year's birthday, or, as I like to think of it, "I'm still a kid, so shut up" Day. Of course it's not all child's play. My favourite presents this year were the delightful array of shirts I received. Enough, in fact, to make Shane Ritchie jealous. Maybe this time next year I'll have enough to put down a deposit on a pub.
By which, of course, I mean flat.
No. I mean pub.
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