The woman has broken down under my persistent haranguing and admitted that there is a birthday fete in the works for me. Before it moves entirely beyond my control, I thought it best to present her with a list of my requirements and a stern lecture about unacceptable practices.
I will require a large marquee in which to entertain my guests - if it means removing one from some human nuptial setting, then so be it. First things first. I also require a team of liveried wait staff. Food will lean heavily toward the vegetable and stud muffin groups. Beverages will consist of large cups of tea served in proper tea cups and lemon squash for those intimidated by strong tea. A string quartet will provide a musical backdrop, with possibly a suitably costumed group to dance around the Maypole in celebration of my day of birth. All very low-key and understated, as you can see.
On the forbidden list: mules of any sort, loud persons of any species, fireworks, shavings bags, ear-pullers, games of pin-the-tail on the donkey and snow/ice, except in the lemon squash. It is requested that ladies wear suitable head coverings, specifically straw hats at least as large in circumference as a donkey's dinner bowl, with an ample number of genuine floral accents. These may be consumed at the end of festivities. Gentlemen are asked to wear suitable garden party attire - loudly patterned shorts, "foam domes" and string undershirts are strongly discouraged.
There have been mumblings about my giving guests rides in my cart - why do I sense the woman's devious mind at work? She's plotting something. She has also asked that in lieu of gifts, donations be made to the PrimRose Donkey Sanctuary. Next she'll be suggesting that guests bring dewormers for those poor suffering souls.