SON – TEENAGE

Happy birthday to the hormonal house guest who eats everything, knows everything and contributes absolutely nothing. You can hear a crisp packet opening from three rooms away, but somehow not somebody asking you to empty the dishwasher. Your bedroom smells like a trainer has died behind the radiator, your laundry basket is treated as an ambitious suggestion, and your phone battery receives more care than any living member of this family. You communicate mainly through grunts, eye-rolls and requests for money, yet remain genuinely shocked when nobody understands how hard your life is. Still, beneath the attitude, questionable hygiene and terrifying screen time, you’re a brilliant lad and we’re incredibly proud of you—even if getting a photograph where you don’t look kidnapped remains impossible. Love you, son x