'Nearly Seventy'.

I briefly met up with my mum, my dad and their friend Anne today for a quick drink to mark my mum’s seventieth birthday.

I’m sure she’ll be pleased that I've committed her age to the internet, though to be fair, she uses the line ‘I’m nearly seventy’ so often as an excuse to not do something that it’s become a running joke. I sent her a text yesterday to remind her she only had twenty-four hours left to roll out her catchphrase before it became inaccurate; I’m that kind of son.

Pushing my gentle teasing aside for a moment, my mum is one of the most youthful and active ‘nearly / actually seventy-year-olds’ I know. Her job is demanding, yet she approaches it with energy and humour, and is clearly very good at it. She’s an organiser and a problem-solver; traits I think I picked up from her myself. She’s also - dare I say it? - funny and easy to talk to. I wonder if she’ll lend me fifty quid?

I’m proud of her for all she’s achieved. I’m also grateful for her support. I just hope she comes to realise that, as cheesy as it sounds, her age is just a number – and as long as she stays dynamic and keeps on the right side of busy, save any health problems, she needn’t see this new milestone as a reason to slow down; she’s not old yet. My only caveat is I’d like her to be less competitive at board games, as that’s when her ruthless, merciless, single-minded side comes out. If you’re not on her team, you’d better run for the hills.