The Birthday That I've Been Trying To Recreate My Whole Life

I turned nine in Torquay. And I’m going to say it outright. It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.

I don’t remember much about the daytime, except that it was hot. It was the kind of heat that feels almost suspicious when you're a tiny Scot. I’m sure there were presents and cards and the usual things. But none of that stayed with me. What I remember is the evening... still hot. The sun still shining. The air still warm. Everything glowing in what we now call "golden hour." 

And we went out for dinner - To PIZZA HUT. Now, you have to understand. At nine years old, Pizza Hut wasn’t just a restaurant. It was America. It was something you saw on TV, a place that other people went to. It was exciting and slightly out of reach. We had pizza from supermarkets, yes… but Pizza Hut? That was different.

I remember walking in and just… taking it all in. The booths, the buzz, the feeling that this was somewhere special. I ordered lasagne, which at that age, in the 1980s, felt like the height of sophistication. My mum didn’t make lasagne. It wasn’t part of our world. We were a mince and tatties kinda family. So this felt like stepping into a different life, one where people casually ate things I’d only ever heard about. 

It was incredible.

And then came dessert which was a lemon sorbet that came in an actual lemon. They served it up in a massive lemon the size of my nine-year-old head, with the inside scooped out and the sorbet replacing the pulp. Then the little lid perched back on top like a hat. I can still see it now, bright yellow and almost too gorgeous to eat.

Of course, it didn't last long. It was downed in about 3 minutes, and gave myself a tummy ache in the process. 

All these wonderous things feel so ordinary now. No wonder everyone seems to be depressed in 2026. There's no joy in simple things like lasagne and bougie lemon sorbet. It's all standard. I can't help feeling a little bit sad about that.

But just when I thought the night couldn’t get any better, it did. We walked to the Princess Theatre because we had tickets to see Bobby Davro.

I loved Bobby Davro. He was Saturday night TV back in the late 80s. It was the kind of love only a child can have for a comedian who makes them laugh without them fully understanding why he's funny. His humour wasn’t for everyone, but for me? It was everything.

And there I was. A big grown up nine years old, on holiday, full of lasagne and lemon sorbet, watching my favourite comedian live on stage. It felt unreal, like the kind of thing that only happens to other people. After a difficult year at school the year before when I had been picked on and excluded consistently, I needed that night. 

And the funny thing is… I would still love that birthday now. Sunny skies, lasagne, dessert and a night of laughing until your face hurts. What else could you possibly want on your birthday?

In fact, I did have a night like that again. Years later, at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe (a few days after my birthday). Bobby Davro was performing in the basement of Frankenstein's bar. I had a great meal and went to see him. Everyone there was middle-aged or older, packed in, laughing like we had nowhere else to be. There was a singalong to Sweet Caroline (who knew Bobby could sing?!). And the jokes didn't stop. Of course, they were different jokes now, for an adult audience. We were the ones who grew up watching Bobby. We were kids, and teens and young parents back then. Now we're the oldies and he's still entertaining us.

We had two hours of pure, ridiculous joy. At some point, sitting there, laughing so hard my face actually hurt… I remembered being nine. I had that same feeling of knowing I would remember that night for years to come. I was older and life had made me weary, as it does. But for those couple of hours, everything was funny. 

That was the theme of his show. Everything is funny if you can laugh at it. I've been trying to recreate that birthday and reclaim that feeling. 

This post is about my 9th birthday and about a great night out on holiday, but it's also about a comedian who made the whole world feel lighter when I was forty-four, just as he had done when I was nine.