My birthday is the day after my Mums. I loved this growing up, loved hearing the story of how my Mum went into labour on her birthday. How my Dad was annoyed at her, when her waters broke in their bedroom, all over their newly laid bedroom carpet as he thought she'd peed herself. The story of how it was so hot the day I was born, that the Doctor in charge of my birth gave my Mum ice-cream whilst she was in labour, because he'd had some and she was jealous. The story of how my Mum had been drinking Cider and black the day before to celebrate her birthday, how she was told to drink Guinness to replace her lost iron after I was born. The story of how the day after I was registered, the name of the page 3 stunner was the same name as mine and they weren't sure if this was a good or bad omen.