My son is one of those unfortunate souls who has a birthday right after new year’s day. Right after Christmas.
And early January is the bleakest time in the UK, with the bleakest weather and the bleakest moods. People have over-eaten and over-partied and it’s as if they feel the need to do some kind of penance for all that fun. So in January all you hear is talk about resolutions and by that I mean people resolving to give up fun things - like chocolate and cheese and cake (and quite possibly cheesecake) - and take up distinctly un-fun things, like gym memberships and detoxes and carrots.
The enthusiasm for celebrating anyone’s birthday in the UK in January reaches a yearly low. And the incidence of people being given the dreaded ‘Joint Christmas and Birthday Gift’ reaches an all-time high.
By the time my son was five years old I felt so sorry for him I knew I had to take action. Not only was his birthday a bit of a half-hearted affair but he had to wait an entire year for some kind of celebration, unlike the rest of us, who have the twelve months between Christmas revelries broken up by our birthdays.
And so I invented Ogga Bogga Day - a random day in June in celebration of my son.
Please don’t ask me what I was thinking (or possibly smoking!) when I came up with the name. I do know that I was reading my son a lot of Dr Seuss back then so that might have been the influence…
Anyway, the rules of Ogga Bogga Day were four and simple…
We had to eat chocolate cake for breakfast, lunch and dinner (we could have other food too, but I always made a giant chocolate cake with Ogga Bogga Day candles which had to be consumed at regular intervals)
Ogga Bogga Day always fell on a weekday so my son could have the day off school, adding a sprinkling of rebellion and excitement to the occasion
There was no set date for Ogga Bogga Day, other than it was in June (mainly to make sure it would never clash with a work commitment of mine but also to add to my son’s excitement)
Ogga Bogga Day was top secret. The only people who knew about it were me and my son. What happened on Ogga Bogga Day stayed on Ogga Bogga Day, a bit like a Dr Seuss inspired Fight Club
And what happened on Ogga Bogga Day was a lot of fun. From the moment I woke my son up with his cake, crying ‘Happy Ogga Bogga Day!’ to the minute we finished our day with the last of the cake.
Once we’d had our chocolatey breakfast we’d go out somewhere for the day - the location would always be a surprise too. Often it would be somewhere in central London - a museum and a movie maybe, or a ride on the London Eye and a trip to a West End theatre.
But there was one year that stood out above all the others - the year my son was ten and we took a train down to Brighton, on England’s south coast.
The weather was beautiful, sunny and warm, and we had one of those magical days when we didn’t have a plan and just went with the flow.
The flow took us down to the beach, and then, as it got hotter, into a beachfront store to buy some emergency shorts and a ball.
Then we had the best time playing volleyball in the sea, getting soaked to the skin but not caring at all.
Afterwards, as we meandered along the seafront, we followed the sound of Elvis singing ‘You ain’t nothing but a hound dog’, and we found our way to a proper American-style diner, complete with a 50’s-style jukebox and a life-sized figure of Uncle Sam.
A server showed us to a booth containing laminated menus and squashy vinyl-covered seats and we ordered burgers and milkshakes, our hair dripping seawater onto the table.
It was wonderful. And of course, made all the better by the knowledge that everyone else we knew was at work and school.
Fast forward to last weekend. Ogga Bogga Day ended many years ago, my son has just turned 28 and he and my lovely daughter-in-law had come to stay with me in the Airbnb I’ve been renting in Brighton.
On Saturday morning I made us all breakfast and as we sat around the table talking, my son asked me if I’d made any new year’s resolutions.
I told him I wasn’t a fan of traditional resolutions as they always seemed a little punitive and joyless and this sparked a great conversation about the importance and meaning of happiness.
My son and his wife are at an interesting point in their lives - a pause between chapters as they try life in the UK for a while after Ukraine. Or perhaps before they return to Ukraine.
We got to talking about potential jobs and I told them I thought they ought to prioritise work that means something to them rather than prioritising money or what society deems to be the ‘sensible’ option.
My daughter-in-law (a talented graphic design artist) nodded enthusiastically. ‘There has to be more to life than slaving away from nine to five to make someone else rich,’ she said.
‘Amen to that!’ I replied. ‘I love being self-employed and coming up with my own ideas.’
As we drank our way through a pot of freshly ground coffee and ate chocolate brioche and raspberries and yoghurt drizzled with honey, the three of us started cooking up some maverick ideas of our own.
‘What if we combined our writing and artistic superpowers and worked on a project together?’ I suggested to my daughter-in-law.
‘I’d love that!’ she exclaimed.
‘What if the three of us went to Bali together,’ my son piped up from his side of the table, where he’d been busy browsing the Airbnb app. ‘We could live in a tent there for 40p a day!’
Within an hour my daughter-in-law and I had brainstormed the beginnings of a really fun business idea and my son had found us a villa in Bali - the women at the breakfast table insisting upon luxuries like beds and a toilet and walls and a floor.
Then, as we cleared away the breakfast dishes, my son got a text from his former boss asking if he’d be interested in a new position at their humanitarian organisation but this time working remotely rather than based in Ukraine.
The timing of the text made it feel as if there was some kind of magic in the air. But in my experience it always feels as if magic is in the air when you tap into a maverick way of dreaming and being.
We set off on a walk along the seafront with a spring in our step and although it was icy cold, the sun was shining brightly, shimmering on a glassy blue sea.
‘I feel so happy, it’s like I’m on holiday!’ my daughter-in-law said, and my son agreed.
‘I do too,’ I replied, feeling warm inside. After months of heaviness and worry about my dad and his health issues, it felt like such a tonic to dream again - and to dream boldly and wildly.
We headed to a bookstore to do some fun research for our potential biz idea and then we discussed where we should go for lunch.
‘I wonder if that American diner is still there,’ my son said, remembering our Ogga Bogga Day from 18 years before.
So we headed off along the seafront, and to my delight as we drew closer to the building where the diner had been I heard Elvis singing ‘You ain’t nothing but a hound dog,’ from some speakers on the wall. The diner was still there!
We stepped inside and were shown to a booth, and although I can’t be certain, I’m pretty sure it was the same one my son and I sat at all those years ago, grinning our faces off, our hair dripping with sea water.
As I looked across the table at my son and his wife on Saturday my heart burst with love and gratitude.
Here we were again, at the scene of one of our happiest memories, with a wonderful new edition to our family - from Ukraine!
We ordered burgers and pulled pork and talked some more about our maverick dreams and schemes. And I wondered to myself if maybe in a few years there will be more new, littler additions to our family joining us at the diner in that same booth.
And I vowed there and then that if one of them is unlucky enough to have a birthday in January I’ll resurrect Ogga Bogga Day specially!
If you’ve set yourself some resolutions this year that have left you feeling a little flat, I hope the Ogga Bogga spirit inspires you to bin them and think outside of the box.
Here’s to the magic of maverick dreams and schemes coming true!
Siobhan
Love this so much, Siobhan! And this was just the message I needed to hear about resolutions and happiness in the new year. I’m so glad you get to spend some time with your son and daughter-in-law ❤️ And so excited for all of your new adventures! Happy New Year!
I so want this made into a film! Such a beautiful story, you must be a professional 😜