The taxman coughing...

Exactly fifty years ago today, our elder daughter was born!

She appeared at around 2.00am, and was a healthy, quite large little lady, and her mother was understandably exhausted - and very sore! I'd been sent home as the birth was going to be difficult.

I had also been requested not to visit until later in the day, and as I had to go to work anyway, the whole visiting issue became a requirement for a little work in the morning, a huge visit to the pub at lunchtime, and then, later on, a long, long time with both the Senora, and brand new daught!

The pub visit that day produced a fabulous result - almost as good as the event itself! My boss, and some senior staff used a pub across the road for their lunchtime sessions, and they were occasionally joined by several local worthies in the same business, like architects, surveyors, and also, a local accountant. I very occasionally joined them, but really preferred to avoid too much time there, and anyway, couldn't afford the scotches and pints of JC back then, but, this time was, of course, different!

While accepting a large drink from our accountant friend, he asked me again, exactly what time our daughter was born! When I told him the time - 2.00am that day - he gave me a huge grin, guffawed immensely and exclaimed in Anglo-Saxon terms that I was the luckiest 'bugger' he'd met for ages, as I could now claim a whole year's Child Benefit, complete up to just 22 hours before the deadline! He even drafted the letter I should write on a paper serviette perched at the bar, and of course, joined me in much jollification!

Now, that refund was worth three weeks' taxed salary, and paid for an awful lot - including the big drink I bought him of course, with grateful thanks!